


Strangers

by drarrylicious



Category: Glee RPF, StarKid Productions RPF
Genre: Basically everyone have sex with each other, Bisexual Everyone, Eventual Smut, Multi, Polyamory, Struggling actors in NYC AU, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3676683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarrylicious/pseuds/drarrylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing Chris and Darren share is an apartment and, like much, a very close friendship. Chris wants to be a playwriter and Darren spends most of his time on shitty relationships, so there's no much time to get too involved in anything. But everything changes when Darren's ultimate girlfriend, Lauren, arrives into their lives with more than one question that makes them wonder whether they really know where they stand, starting out as a simple "Have you ever heard of non-monogamous relationships?" and lightning a flame they could no longer control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summaries. 
> 
> To clarify the tags, this fic is about a polyamorous relationship between Darren, Chris and Lauren. /Everyone/ is bi for no apparent reason. And expect a lot of smut and threesomes and "straight"/gay sex, yay!  
> I obviously don't have any boundaries anymore, however I hope someone can enjoy this! :)

**Strangers**

**Chapter 1: What about Chris?**

Chris had always thought deep down that Darren’s girlfriend was a bit weird.

Some people feel the unavoidable urge to classify the people around them, especially strangers, or to fit them in some label to simulate a peculiar sense of reliability that could ensure they do know each other. This was Darren’s girlfriend label.

In fact, Darren had a history of weird dating overall, starting from the moment they first met.

He couldn’t be happier to get that oh-so-expected e-mail from one of the auditions he applied to after moving to New York; but it wasn’t only that Chris was bad at being new, it was just that he was _very-very-bad_ at being new. He felt his chest was swelling considerably with every heartbeat, and he was just so ridiculously nervous to arrive to his first rehearsal that it made no sense. The whole idea of moving out from his hometown was to lose each one of his fears, to meet new people he could feel comfortable with, to feel free. But he knew he’d have to work into breaking his internalized judgment against himself. So he was absorbed in that sort of fight with himself while he walked to the theatre, that he couldn’t notice anything happening around him and he didn’t really understand what just hit him on the arm at the entrance of the building.

He turned around only two steps after that unexpected collision, like if his brain only caught up his movements then.

“Um… sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Chris muttered, still a little confused, and it sounded way less polite than what he usually was.

“Buy me a new shoulder and we’re even.” The guy replied, frowning and moving his shoulder in circles like if he was checking everything was in order. But he was grinning slightly, so Chris was inclined to think he was joking. “Running late?”

He was holding his cellphone with his other hand, but he wasn’t paying attention to it anymore. He probably was just as distracted, or maybe he was vain enough to think Chris would eventually avoid him. The evening was kinda cloudy and it was a little dark, so the phone screen lighted his face, including the eyebrows rising in an expression of curiosity under the short curls neatly cut to the proper length to make him look mature. He couldn’t be much older than him, though.

“Yeah, sort of.” He lied. He wasn’t late, but it was the most convenient thing to reply. “It’s my first day.”

“Are you going to the Adonis practice?”

Darren’s curiosity wasn’t that normal for someone he met literally 25 seconds ago.

“Yes.” He only replied. He started to freak out a bit, did he just have the worst possible introduction to the star of the show or something?

“Good.” He grinned slightly again, tilting his head a millimeter. “I’m Darren. We’ll meet again soon.”

It couldn’t be that bad, since he was acting pretty nicely towards him –it was either that or he was being extremely sarcastic and he couldn’t notice and everything was ruined.

“Chris,” He replied. There was a silence, and he forced a nervous smile as he gave one step backwards, before turning around and continuing his way to the practice room.

But they didn’t meet again as soon as Chris expected. He didn’t get to the practice before they started. Actually, he didn’t get there at all. The two hours passed by; despite they went twice as better than what he thought, and that the only person he had said a word to didn’t show up.

He practically forgot about it by the end, while he drank his bottle of water and wept the sweat from his face and neck with a hand towel. And amongst the mess of people leaving, he saw Darren casually walking in as if the rehearsal wasn’t ending. Chris frowned, confused, but pretended that he didn’t notice him. Then he stood up, and saw him giving a long, passionate kiss to Alexa, the director of the play; and he almost laughed because it was so obvious yet he didn’t catch it before. He wasn’t in the cast, he was just some coach’s boyfriend.

Alexa was pretty weird right off first sight. She’d wear a different maxi skirt every day and had a million of necklaces with pendants shaped in peace symbols, and a tattoo in Chinese letters on her forearm. She talked _so_ slowly you thought you’d die before the end of the sentence. And he was pretty sure she’d define herself as a free spirit if you asked her. But Darren apparently didn’t mind, since he’d go to the theater every day, at the end of every practice, and give her that long, passionate kiss every freaking time. But it was okay, because the only thing Chris could care about was that he didn’t get her upset so she wouldn’t vent their relationship issues on the cast. And it worked like that for a while.

Chris was just starting to learn to love New York, and he and Darren didn’t really know each other that much when it just happened –it stopped working. Besides exchanging a few trivial conversations while Chris was leaving and Darren arriving, they didn’t even talk. But one evening, Chris was _actually_ running late and he almost didn’t spot Darren resting his back on the wall of the building, in the sidewalk. Again, he could only stop two steps after he passed by him.

“Hey,” He said quickly. His intention was to keep running to practice, but Darren seemed a genuine wreck so he became kinda bemused for a moment. Darren threw his head back until it hit the wall, and he looked up to the sky, breathing deeply. “You okay?”

Not even his eyes moved when he replied with a dead voice. “Perfect, I just… got dumped. Like right now.” He made a pause to sigh, “And I kind of… don’t have absolutely anywhere to go.” The seriousness of his words didn’t match the emotionless tone of his voice. “Which is lovely, since I’m currently unemployed.” He sighed again, bit his lip and then frowned, in that exact same order. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He finished, finally looking down.

Darren was reproaching to himself a history too long to explain, like _what the fuck was I thinking to move in with someone I’ve been with for two weeks_ and _did we really broke up over that_ and a few more monologues that became less eloquent over time.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Chris didn’t know what to reply. He looked so much like shit that he felt pity of him. “That sucks. What are you going to do?”

“I have no fucking clue. I literally just told you.” His reply was a bit harsh, but ironically he laughed right after. He added honestly, “You suck at comforting.”

Chris wasn’t really used to have people he barely knew to treat him like a tight old friend; but this was New York and it wasn’t the first person with that attitude he came across.

“Well, you suck at breakups.” He snapped. “Did she really just kick you out like that?”

“Yeah, I mean…” He frowned, looking away, probably absorbed in a complex chain of thought for Chris to comprehend, “I sorta understand her, I guess, but it was a shitty move whatsoever.  Well, it’s done.” He continued, putting a hand into the pocket of his jeans. His thumb tapped nervously his lap, “We never really were in the same vibe, anyway.”

That sounded like something Alexa would say, too.

Chris went silent for a moment. It was probably only that Darren looked very very troubled in that instance what pushed him to do it. He was having an internal debate again, but the phrase came out before his brain had agreed with it. His before-moving-out self wouldn’t consider it without an online browse to check he wasn’t dealing with a serial killer or something, but the opportunity reached him there and _it was so boring living alone anyway_.

“I have a free room in my apartment. It’s not a suite, but you can survive until you find a place to stay.”

“Are you serious?” Darren seemed more surprised than glad,  but he wasn’t going to reject the offer. “I mean, you’d save my life. But we don’t know each other. Are you okay with this?”

“I’ve seen you make out with my director so many times, I feel we’re close already.”

Darren laughed as he threw his head back; and this really didn’t seem the start of anything –Spoiler alert: It wasn’t the start of anything, for a long time. Maybe Darren wouldn’t have stopped looking for a new apartment to move out if they hadn’t become friends so easily, or if he hadn’t gotten casted in a play from a theatre ten blocks away. It all seemed a big coincidence, and months passed, and after that, years.

A few new versions of the old Alexa showed up. They all were different, but they all were similar in the fact that they were weird in some aspect. Always. Chris hadn’t gotten to know very well any of them, since they’d usually last a month (as much). Darren would also have long periods when he wouldn’t date anyone and the apartment became kinda boring. But Chris never asked to his roommate about his dating life or anything, just as he didn’t ask about Chris’; which worked perfectly. Chris’ room was Chris’ room and Darren’s room was Darren’s room. What happened inside was a concern of each one, and it’d never transfer outside. This was their method, and they didn’t change it through the years.

And then Lauren came along. Chris had to hold the urge to roll his eyes when Darren commented about a new girl he met in the theatre. Same wine, new bottle.

So Chris was utterly shocked when Darren brought a tiny brunette to the apartment for the first time, whose voice wasn’t really that loud and suggested to just order pizza on the phone. She was wearing leggings and a brown sweater, and when she introduced herself she didn’t feel the need to comment about anarchy, or punk rock, or capitalist oppression. It wasn’t Darren’s type.

_There_ has _to be something wrong with her_ , Chris thought.

When she survived the infamous first month, he started to think that maybe she was just normal and that’s why they were working things out; and for like a week, everything made sense.

Then things got weird again.

He almost had a heart attack the first time he saw a stranger walking across the apartment, evading to look at him at all costs, and disappearing behind a slam of the door. It surprised him so badly that he held the coffee pot longer than what he should’ve, staring at the imaginary path the girl left behind, and burning his hand with the hot coffee. He jumped in his place, leaving both the cup and the kettle over the counter, and growling under his breath while he wiped his hand with a napkin.

Then he stared at Darren’s room with a frown. He heard some unintelligible whispers and flutters behind the closed door, but no one came out for a while. It was only ten minutes later that Darren dragged his worn out self to the kitchen. He was wearing boxers and a dark grey tank top, and an expression that made obvious he had either just woke up or never fell asleep at all.

“Can I steal your coffee?” He asked lowly, sitting on the stool on the other side of the counter. “And… croissants, maybe?” He continued, intruding his hand into the paper bag of the bakery half a block away. His hair was all messy –not that Darren’s hair was ever _not_ messy, but it was it was especially chaotic that morning. He grinned slightly when he confirmed it was indeed one of his favorite meals. “Lauren’s not in the best mood right now, so food will probably help.”

Darren _always_ stole Chris’ breakfast, but at least he had the manners to ask. He had prepared enough coffee out of experience, and Darren grabbed two cups from the drawer at his left side. He served the coffee in silence, and Chris asked because –well, he couldn’t just not ask.

“Care to explain why a red-haired just ran off from our apartment?”

Darren walked back to his room skillfully balancing the food and the cups of coffee with his two hands. He giggled shortly, shaking his head, as he heard Chris’ question.

“It was a crazy night.” He merely said, pushing slightly the door with his feet to make it open, and leaving his roommate with more questions than answers.

 

* * *

 

Darren and Lauren weren’t the type of couple who’d fight over who loved the other more. Moreover, they’d barely say it at all. They wouldn’t look into each other’s eyes under the light of the stars and say it with a deep voice _,_ it was more like _Fucking-finally-I-love-you_ after handing the ketchup so they wouldn’t have to get up from the couch.

_Casual_ was one of the most accurate words to describe them. They’d just hang out during the day and have sex during the night, and occasionally switch them if their practice schedules didn’t fit right. If Chris was asked about it, he’d probably just say that they made out a lot. All the time. Everywhere. He figured they’d probably finish any fight, or boredom, or just any conversation whatsoever by shoving their tongues down each other’s throat.

One of the biggest issues with them was that they both were too much of a box of surprises very often, in their different ways. Darren was simply hard to follow, as much as he loved to be in a relationship his mind was usually split into ten different places at once and he could forget the hour of a meeting or a date he sensed he _should for some reason somehow_ be remembering. But he also knew how to make someone feel loved and what words to say in the right times.

Lauren was much more of an introvert when it came to certain things; so while she’d talk about mundane things nonstop, when she used _that_ tone of voice he knew there was a whole event behind the painting.

“Darren,” Lauren called once, quietly, while he finished washing his teeth. She was standing in the door of the bathroom, wearing nothing more than one of his sweaters and panties, and Darren found it hard to focus. “Are you happy?”

He didn’t expect neither a question this serious, nor such an embittered tone of voice from her part, so he didn’t know what to answer.

“What do you mean? Of course I’m happy.”

She noted how much of an instinct that response was, so she didn’t let it go. “Are you honestly? Will you be for much longer?” She strained the sleeves of the sweater to cover the palm of her hands, “Do you think I’ll be able to keep you like this?”

Those questions were more than the reflections of just five minutes of thinking, and the reason was more than it was past midnight; he knew that.

Darren breathed deeply, placing his hands on her waist and trying to look in her brown eyes. “What is going on?”

Lauren shook her head, “Forget it. It’s stupid.”

She attempted to walk away, but Darren pulled harder from her waist. He tried to embrace the most sober tone he could to make her now he was being honest. “This is the longest I’ve ever been with _anyone_. I seriously don’t wanna fuck this up. If something is going on, you can tell me.”

The phrase he just said did nothing but to nourish her theory, but she still couldn’t be sure how he’d take her suggestion. It’s not like if they hadn’t had weird conversations, but some people would think that was crossing the line.

“It’s just something I’ve been reading about the other day.” She wet her lips, accommodating the correct phrases in her head. It’s just that she had rehearsed that dialogue in her mind _so many_ times, and it never seemed appropriate. How could she express it out loud without sounding intentionally absurd? “Some people have issues maintaining a partner, you know? And as I read it was like reading my diary. And I think you’ll feel identified, too.” She commented, like if it was something casual; trying to settle down the ground for the bomb. Not that they hadn’t talked about how hard relationships were for them. But her tone couldn’t lessen what her question implied, and how much they’d change. “Have you ever heard of non-monogamous relationships?”

 

* * *

 

Chris was reading the script of his incoming play while he waited for his coffee to get cold, when this time a swarthy tall guy who looked pretty much like the model for a cologne publicity walked out of Darren’s room and crossed the kitchen/living-room to get out of the house, like if he was invisible. Chris limited himself to merely stare at him while he left, groping the cup of coffee since he couldn’t stop watching the door because it was impossible that it was happening –again. He should be writing a binnacle at this point.

His shock was so terrible that he wasn’t thinking when he directed the cup to his lips and _shit the coffee is hot, that’s why you weren’t drinking it, jackass._

But he didn’t ask, because that was their implicit agreement. It was just none of Chris’ business. So despite the curiosity seemed almost unbearable, the walls were thick and nothing disrupted in his life besides burning himself with hot coffee.

“Is it us?” Lauren was sitting on the bed, the sheet around her covering most of her body, and a copy of _The sound and the fury_ in her hands to which she wasn’t paying attention to. “Maybe we just came off too aggressive.”

Darren shifted slightly, placing his body to the side to look at her. His head was sinking slowly into the fuzzy pillow, and he was becoming kinda sleepy again.

“It’s definitely not us.” Darren replied, carelessly running his fingers through the skin of her legs, under the sheet. “We’re the nicest, hottest, most interesting couple in the city.”

Lauren giggled quietly at his humble description, running the tip of her fingers through the borders of the pages of that book she wasn’t reading.

“I’m not that sure.”

They had tried it with one of their friends, and it didn’t work; turns out a threesome most of the time stays in a threesome ( _We really didn’t think this through_ , Lauren admitted after the first one of many awkward conversations with their possible third). They had tried it with someone who (apparently) shared the interests they were looking for, and well –whoever said the internet solves everything didn’t have the slightest idea about their situation. Finding someone who they both clicked with, and who was willing to commit to the kind of relationship they were looking for, was just starting to seem too unreachable.

“You’re enjoying this.” Lauren commented, and her tone was a bit resentful. She looked at him for a short moment before directing her eyes back to the printed letters resting on her lap, “You’re actually enjoying this.”

“Um, what?” That observation caught him with his guard down.

“I’m the only one who’s stressing out for the long time this is taking us.”

“Well,” Darren laughed shortly. “Excuse me for not finding apocalyptic that we have a different attractive person in our bed every weekend. Shit, that is just so horrifying, actually. I wonder what’s wrong with me.”

Lauren chuckled. “You’re unbelievable.”

Darren didn’t know if to take that whether as a compliment or as an insult, so there was a moment of silence.

“What about Brittany?” Darren finally suggested.

Lauren shrugged, not very convinced. “Brittany is cute.”

“Oh, forget it. I just remembered that she didn’t like Harry Potter.” He said, frowning, like if the idea seemed to disgust him. “What kind of person doesn’t like Harry Potter?”

Lauren ignored that last comment. “Courtney wasn’t that bad either.”

Darren snorted, slightly pushing her leg with his hand.

“ _Of course_ you’d think that. She loved you, and wants my dead body hidden in a basement.” He replied, offended. The girl would only have eyes for Lauren, and whenever he wanted to join the conversation, she rolled her eyes and ignored him. “Absolutely no.”

“She doesn’t hate you. Not everyone loves your puns about threesomes, not after and not before they happen, and you’ll have to accept that.” She looked at him, “I’m having a hard time finding them funny myself.”

Darren let out an offended laugh, resting his weight on his elbows to see if this way he could defend himself better.

“You’re cruel, Lopez. My jokes are great, and they work to break the ice.”

“Sure.” She replied while she leaned to the side of the bed to grab the empty cups and bowls on the floor, but the sarcastic tone she used and the way he could see she was containing a laugh were absolutely worse than any direct disregard.

But Darren pulled from her inner thigh, and she almost stumbled with bowls and everything. Darren didn’t seem to notice that the disaster almost happened, and Lauren felt the need to cut the sudden kiss he started to give her to steer his mind in the direction she knew he’d eventually divert to.

“I need to wash this.”

Darren snapped his tongue quickly against the quiet whisper she delivered against his lips.

“Right now?”

Lauren grinned shortly at the blatant pressure of the hand that hadn’t moved from her thigh, but she managed to somehow gracefully escape from the grip without ending with porcelain scattered all over the floor.

“You always leave the dirty dishes in the sink.” She accused, “From food you probably steal from your roommate, too. It’s fucking rude.”

A sigh long enough to inflate a balloon escaped from Darren’s lungs followed this incrimination, but Lauren was gone already. She practically ran to the kitchen because the floor was cold and her feet were bare.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Chris muttered from the stool behind her. He didn’t even need to lift his gaze from the script he was reading to make that comment. “I t’s okay, don’t mind.”

“Well, I do.” She snapped, distressed, while she stood in her tiptoes to reach for the detergent in the first cupboard. “I can’t allow Darren’s lazy ass to exploit you that way.”

“Sometimes I prefer it that way.” Chris’ comment wasn’t meant for her to catch it, but her briskly giggle backfired him.

“Oh God, I mean –I really appreciate the good intentions he has, but sometimes it’s only for the worst.” Lauren said, glad to finally find someone to vent to, while she rinsed the bowls with warm water.

Chris’ had stopped leafing through the script over the counter, “He just doesn’t get it.”

“I’m not gonna say I’m not messy, but I draw the line when I can’t remember the color of my floor.” Chris laughed and Lauren shook her head, placing the dried objects in the drawer. “I can’t take him to my apartment anymore because my roommate can’t stand his pet peeves. Can you believe that?”

“Thank God he’s pretty, so it kinda balances out.”

Lauren raised eyebrows and nodded in agreement; but they both laughed for a moment before she walked to the room again.

Darren was still in bed, looking sort of like if he was having a conversation with himself, which was exactly what Lauren wanted, yet now her mind was clogged in the last dialogue and particularly in the last phrase she shared with Darren’s roommate. And she was trying to join so many dots together that she didn’t know if she was making sense, because it had been there all along and it couldn’t be that she hadn’t noticed the perfect match.

“I guess we could consider someone who doesn’t obsess over the exact same things we do.” Darren shook his head, his hand running through his cheek and the scalp of his hair.

“Darren,” Lauren disregarded completely his comment, and she sat on the bed because _well fuck_ she just needed to sit down. Despite the strange but firm conviction that invaded her all of sudden, she knew that it was a risky question and that she’d maybe just have to pretend it was a joke depending on his reaction. And she might not been aware of what this implied, but her eyes shined when she looked at Darren and finally let out, “What about Chris?”


	2. Curiosity killed the cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some things that you need to experience to know whether you want them or not. You gotta buy the cologne to know if the smell will make you sick after five days, and you gotta read the popular book to know if it’s truly overrated by the mainstream media or if it’s genuinely good. Did he want to read Chris’ book?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! First of all, I NEED to say that the feedback of this story has been 90% positive and amazing, and you won't believe how happy that makes me! (HELLA happy) I wasn't expecting it at all and I was super nervous so it kinda helped me to keep going. So thank you so so so much<3  
> I apologize this took me so long to update, but college's been crazy, and I couldn't get this how I wanted it to be (Still can't but anyway), so I cross my fingers this can fill your expectatives.
> 
> I mantain my warnings, and I add slightly problematic use of (a lot of) alcohol.

**Chapter 2: Curiosity killed the cat**

“Chris…” Darren would’ve probably fallen down if he was standing up, but he could only frown and kind of throw the back of his head against the pillow once again. He stared at the grey pattern of the roof, but he just wasn’t ready for that question at that hour of the morning, or just not ever at all. “Chris is… pretty.”

The lack of determination in that statement reached the amusement, but they didn’t laugh, and Lauren kind of regretted to have pronounced that question but _not really_ because it still made so much sense.

Darren couldn’t determine what he thought or how he felt. Like when a professor makes you a question because they know you weren’t paying attention; this just knocked him off.

He had never thought that Chris was anything near ugly or unattractive at all. He just had never been… romantic potential. He’d have to lie to avoid confessing that sometimes, when Chris got out of shower with nothing but a towel around his waist, he hadn’t looked at the perfect V letter shaped by the bones of his hips; or that sometimes he didn’t stare longer than normal to the curve under his lower back when he crouched to grab something from the floor and his shirt lifted up with the stretch. But Darren only did it because the human body was beautiful, and Chris was nice to observe. But he never thought he could kiss Chris more than what he thought about kissing anyone in particular, and he probably hadn’t felt attracted to Chris more than he felt attracted to anyone in particular.

“If you feel weird about it, we don’t have to…” Lauren shook her head at Darren’s frozen expression.

“I need to think about it.”

It was too early in the morning for a suggestion like this; and Lauren sensed it, so she shook her head again, sloppily caressing his arm.

“Of course. No pressure.” She gently said, before shortly wetting her lips. “I need to get going.”

She changed her clothes in silence and quickly kissed him goodbye on the lips; she was gone before he could fall in the count of it. It was _so_ typical of Lauren to say something completely unconceivable and leave him confused for the rest of the day.

Darren had been living with Chris for almost four years. He had gotten so used to their friendship and what it implied –loose conversations at 3a.m. and stealing cold coffee in the morning before the walk to go to each one’s rehearsals; that he couldn’t know if he could stand moving out after he had called him a depraved shit. He just didn’t think he could deal with that. On the other hand, now that the idea had been in touch with him, how to shut it out again?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it in the entire day; whenever he thought he had come up with a conclusion, he went _but what if…?_ , and he literally stepped into the rehearsal to stand there being sort of absent and hoping no one would notice. And even with his schedules not fitting with Lauren’s, he felt she was practically there, making him question everything he never conceived to be wrong.

It was insane, there wasn’t a doubt about it. The idea was insane. Because a) He wasn’t even that sure Chris was into girls, too, because despite suspicious conversations he didn’t know enough to assume anything, and he had never brought a girl home or made clear statements about it–or did he? He shouldn’t have avoided so badly the sexual orientation talk, but it was just that he never considered it useful and he had learned to dismiss it in the past for his own good. Even then, 2) was it a good idea to be with someone whose room was five steps away from his? There’s always that moment when you have a fight and you’re like, _let’s take a break_. Then what? Lock themselves in each one’s room, standing the urge to pee because they might run into each other along the way? It’d be a fucking nightmare. And, especially, 3) why’d Chris accept such thing anyway? He could never get on his level. He couldn’t keep up intellectually interesting enough, or thoughtful enough, or yielding enough for someone like him.

Two fingers snapped with a loud click in front of Darren’s eyes, and behind them, a blurred face became sharper.

“Is someone there?”

Darren shook his head, hardly realizing that the practice was over, “Not today.”

“I noticed. Your contribution today has been outstanding.” His friend, Joey, admired with an ironic tone and the hint of a grin on his lips. He hung his bag onto his shoulder, and then added, looking at him and raising his eyebrows, “Should I ask?”

“Please don’t.”

He couldn’t tell that Darren wasn’t kidding, nonetheless he still didn’t ask – _Thank God_ , Darren thought, because he needed an advice so badly that he’d probably spit it all out in a sec.

He was able to knock himself off his lethargy just in time to grab his bag and slip quickly through the door before Joey closed it behind him, and he followed his friend to the subway station.

“Have you heard about Karen?”

The question had sounded way too quiet to be something good. Karen was Darren’s last girlfriend before Lauren; they had ( _surprisingly_ ) broken up in not very good terms, and that’s when Darren decided to make a rule to not date people he hadn’t known beforehand. It’d have taken them five minutes more of talking to realize they were meant to hurt each other.

“No. What about her?”

“Oh.” That sigh was definitely a sign of regret. “I thought that’s why you were… Forget it.” He shook his head shortly, running a hand through his chin, over the stubble.

“No, it’s okay. I can stand it.” Darren assured; although he was barely listening.

“It seems she’s getting married, like, next week.” He said it quietly again, like if this would make the words less severe.

Darren’s eyes widened, though his tone remained calm. “That’s weird… She said things were going too fast with me. And it hasn’t been not even half a year since we…” he flicked his tongue to swallow the memory back along with his unsaid words.

“Don’t obsess over it. You know how those girls are…” Joey shrugged, wishing he had a best advice. “Sometimes it’s genuinely _them,_ and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Yeah, sure.” Darren merely replied. Joey’s reflections were kinda off-topic for his brain right then, and despite the news were shocking, they didn’t sink in enough to affect him that far.

Joey looked at him with a frown while they walked down the stairs of the station, almost analyzing him. Darren wasn’t usually that calm, or silent, or just like if he wasn’t there at all.

“You sure you okay?” Joey looked over the electric sign on the top of their heads to check his train wasn’t arriving yet, and then he added, worried, “I just feel that if I leave you here you’ll make the way back to the upper west side ten times without noticing it.”

Darren giggled, “I’ll make it alright. I’ve survived the subway trip drunk at least ten times. I can deal with this.”

That wisecrack satisfied Joey, and he said goodbye after a grin and a pat on Darren’s arm.

Darren’s subway arrived within the next ten minutes, and when he walked to the street again, it was cloudy and drizzling slightly. It took him five minutes of a hurried walk to get to the apartment, but his sweatshirt was humid, so the first thing he did was to stretch his hand behind his back to grab the neck of the cloth and take it off.

While he threw the sweatshirt to the couch, he heard a snort behind him, and it wouldn’t usually surprise him because the counter had always been Chris’ reading/writing spot, but he was so fucking aware of everything that day and he felt it was all too much, so he forgot to breathe for the next three seconds.

He could almost hear Chris’ voice saying _“Are you really going to leave that there?”_ when he turned around, but his roommate just smiled and his eyes went back to his laptop again.

“Long day?”

“Kind of.” He dragged his feet to the seat in front of him. He placed his elbow on the counter, resting his head against the inner part of his palm. His voice came out gravelly as he asked, “What are you working on?”

“The usual.” Chris shrugged, closing his eyes for a second. “Nothing important.”

Darren would’ve insisted longer, but he knew he wouldn’t get anything else from him. Chris had secrets projects he’d never share since the first day Darren moved in the apartment, and he had come to accept it.

Darren allowed himself the luxury to observe him without guilt for a while. He had always been nice to watch, anyway. The line over his jaw moved slightly –barely noticeable- while he pressed his lips, probably absorbed in his thoughts, and he typed for what it seemed ten seconds before the deep sky-blue of his eyes moved up as he raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Um. You’re staring.”

“Oh.” He was so tired from thinking nonstop all day, that by that time the words came out soft and loose, like the rain that was smoothly hitting their window. “Sorry.”

There are some things that you need to experience to know whether you want them or not. You gotta buy the cologne to know if the smell will make you sick after five days, and you gotta read the popular book to know if it’s truly overrated by the mainstream media or if it’s genuinely good. Did he want to read Chris’ book?

He liked to hang out with him more than with anyone else, and he was pretty, and the blue of his eyes remembered him of the sky in a lazy Sunday morning, and he was sure he’d have no problem on seeing him naked neither, so _why not_? His ex-girlfriend was getting married, and he –well, he was about to make a big change in his life, too.

“Actually,” He cleared his throat, trying to sound as casual as it was possible. “what are you doing tomorrow night?”

 

* * *

 

“It’s a beta date.” Lauren assured over the phone, and Darren wondered how it was a date if Chris had no idea about anything, but she added quickly, “If things get weird for bad, we’ll call it quits.”

“Is there weird for good?” Darren asked, not sure he could tell the difference; while he ran a hand through that curl that just would _not_ get on a normal shape for the tenth time. The hair rebelliously went back to its ridiculous place, and he sighed in resignation.

“Oh, you’ll know.” Lauren wisely replied, and he sensed she was smiling.

Chris walked out of his room wearing a shirt of nearly the same color of his eyes, and black jeans. The essence of grapes in his cologne pervaded the room at the instant.

“We’re going to get a cab.” Darren said at the phone, standing up from the couch. “We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Great. See you then.”

When Darren hung up the phone, Chris was quickly brushing his hair, observing his reflection in the glass of the cupboard; and Darren almost snorted because he couldn’t manage the ease of that neat hairstyle within a hundred years.

“Unless you were tailoring your outfit yourself, there is no way that took you half an hour.” Darren lied, giving a cruel stare to the reflection in the furnishing –the waiting was worth it, it always was; and he grabbed the keys, which skirled in a short ring.

“Patience is a virtue, Criss.” He replied, while he put his cellphone and wallet in the pocket of his jeans. “Care to explain me what is, exactly, my role in this dinner?”

“Um… I just wanted you to get to know Lauren. You know, since things have been getting more serious.” He shrugged, opening the door. He avoided Chris’ gaze as he walked past him and called the elevator.

How many lies would he have to tell before the night ended? The first thing he’d do as they got in the restaurant would be to get a double scotch on the rocks, and everything would naturally sort out itself from that point.

“How serious?” Chris finally asked.

As in _we’ve discussed to have sex with you_ serious.

Darren shrugged again; he wasn’t prepared for the interrogatory.

“Moderately.” He gave a vague, quiet reply as they got inside of the elevator.

“More moderately than Alexa?”

“Highly more moderately.”

Darren glanced quickly at Chris’ profile in the mirror on the wall of the small equipment.

“Then it’s like, pretty serious.”

“Not _that_ serious.”

Chris wanted to laugh because it was a classic Darren to act that way; but he held it since the short melody indicated they were in the ground floor, and he didn’t want to confuse him before the soiree even started.

Lauren greeted Darren with a relatively short snog and Chris with an emphatic kiss on the cheek, before exclaiming jauntily that they were going to _love_ the place she choose for the dinner. 

“We’ve got different standards for loving.” Chris commented, since he was the first one to get out of the taxi. “Bahama Breeze? Seriously? And why?”

Lauren’s hand pushed slightly his back to keep him moving, and she walked through the entrance path practically dragging the two guys inside of the island grill.

“When you said foreign food I thought you meant Nando’s, as much.” Darren complained as the girl pulled from his hand. He should’ve guessed it.

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun. There’s live music tonight.” Lauren’s excited tone didn’t match Chris’ unamused expression, so she continued to explain, in a more serious manner, “Besides, try finding a nice place at the reach of three actors’ income. It doesn’t add up.”

They followed her through practically the entire restaurant, until she decided which seat was the best spot. She finally choose a table under the roof of an outbuilding, outdoors, next to a fountain with the sculpture of a prominent naked woman, which Chris had to be careful not to hit while he surrounded the table to sit down.

Lauren wasn’t lying, there was a group performing tropical music at the opposite side of the building, and the sound of bongo drums reached their table remotely.

“I used to come here all the time.” Lauren explained while a waitress handed them the menus, “The firecracker shrimp” She pointed at the name of that food in the menu Chris had just grabbed, like if she had memorized the exact location of it, “is _sooo_ good. Take my recommendation.”

“Please don’t tell me you came here with –” Darren rolled his eyes, but Chris saved the conversation, half casually and half purposely.

“Everything in this menu seems to be the cause of chronic gastritis. Are you sure this is mildly healthy?” Chris asked, examining the ingredients of every meal and without being able to conclude which was the greasiest one. Everything sounded way too… crusty.

“Totally!” She replied, waving her hand to rest importance to it, and then added like an expert in the matter, “I’m gonna go for the quesadillas.”

“Yeah, I want something to drink.” Darren chimed in quickly, lifting his arm to call the waitress before she walked away from their table.

The struggle wasn’t easy, but they finally picked what it seemed the most convenient food, and Darren offered three Margaritas at the persistence of the waitress to go for the Latin-themed drinks.

“It’s kinda too early for margaritas.” Chris observed, trying to admire the architecture and design of the entire restaurant, but unluckily, the naked woman sculpture was obstructing most of the view. His stomach was empty, and he had never been a hardcore drinker; but he sensed the awkwardness ahead, so part of him agreed with the idea.

“It’s too early for Caribbean music, yet here we are.”

Darren rested his back on the chair, trying to imitate Chris and see the decoration of the bistro, but he got distracted at the same figure he did. He tilted his head at the woman whose open mouth gave place to a waterfall, and at the small hands that held a pair of disproportionately bloated breasts.

“ _Right_?” Chris glanced quickly once again at the fountain, before shifting in his place, like if it gave him chills. “It’s disturbing.”

“It’s kinda pornographic.”

“Why? Because she’s naked?” Lauren snapped, despite she was supposedly typing something in her phone.

“No, because she’s dipping in the puddle of the liquid that’s coming from her own mouth – _Thank God_.” Darren let out as the waitress approached them with their drinks.

Chris laughed shortly, before Lauren, who had put her phone back in her purse, placed her elbows on the table and slightly leaned forwards to ask, while she looked at him like a little girl:

 “So, Chris… Darren told me you’re working at the Theater Lab. I had a friend who worked there for a long time, with Janet… Bailey?” She said, unsure, “Anyway, I think it’s a great place, and I’m kinda jealous since mine is a shithole.”

“Janet is great, yeah. But… A shithole? Is it?” Chris looked at Darren.

“I try to light it up when I tell people about it.” His index finger was slowly running through the curve of his chin, and he finally shrugged once more. He grabbed his glass, and said before directing it to his lips, “But I guess it really is a shithole.”

“Janet texted me the other day, actually.” Lauren continued. “I’d sell my soul to work there, but I think she’s just trying to get to Darren through me. And there is no way you both get jobs there if I don’t, so I completely boycotted the whole thing.” She finished, upset, but grinning a bit.

Darren shook his head, disapproving her hypothesis.

“I don’t know, I think that theatre is very overrated.” Chris shook his head as well, but in a very different meaning.

“Overrated? Why?”

“There it goes…” Darren chanted, throwing his head back, but Chris ignored it.

“Well, I just think their selection of plays is extremely orthodox, and the rerun they make of scripts end up shallow and hardly faithful to the original; it’s… kinda ironic, actually.” He rolled his eyes. “They’re so busy trying to indulge the sponsors they can’t really see above the entrance sign.”

“Wow, I’ve never – I guess I never thought it that way.” Lauren was surprised, but interested. She had heard nothing but good things about that theatre from her friends, “I mean, I knew the critics weren’t fond with them, but I assumed they were harsh in the same line of elitist reasons.” 

“I mean, it’s how I see it. But if you’re interested, I can try to talk to Janet and see how she reacts if I suggest her to invite you for a season or something.”

“Would you?” Lauren’s eyes widened as they shone, and her lips split up in surprise. “That’d be so great. I mean, apart from the triviality and shit.”

“Please. Chris is the front-runner in the bootlicker spectrum of New York.” Darren added teasingly.

“That’s not true.”

“It wouldn’t if she knew what you truly think of her shitty directing; but admit you’re the flatterer inside of the theatre’s doors.”

“You know what? That’s smart,” Lauren interrupted, momently encouraged by the sips of the drink that were still sliding through her throat, “you’ve gotta keep your nagging to yourself and be a hypocrite jerk if you want to survive in this business. The coach I’ve had to stand in college thought the most suitable manner to congratulate you after the play was to slap everyone’s ass like a high five. I’m not a fucking soccer player, you know what I mean?”

The old couple next to them couldn’t help but to turn around to the cursing-salad that developed during the last minutes. Darren had to put his hand over his mouth to avoid his snort to convert to a laugh, but it was just that the looks of the 60 year old lady were extraordinary.

“Language.” He finally warned.

Lauren rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Chris chuckled, wondering how those two could be the same couple with some weird threesome kink he hadn’t dared to ask about yet.

The food wasn’t truly as terrible as they expected, and after the third round of margaritas, the tropical music was actually becoming highly enjoyable.

“I gotta admit, Lauren, this place wasn’t such a bad choice.” Chris finally confessed. “I feel like I haven’t appreciated Middle American cocktails as they deserved in my entire life.”

“Thank you. Recognition is all I ask.” Lauren lifted her glass as a sign of gratitude.

“Except mojitos, which have produced me a serious trauma in the past. No more mojitos for me.” Darren shook his head.

“What’d you do?” Lauren could presume it was another one of drunk-Darren usual stories. “Oh, I’m not sure I wanna know.”

“Well, I-” He laughed, running a hand through his face like if the memory was too embarrassing. “Once, I was kinda –um, pretty dunk, and I was trying to impress a girl in the club but she kept telling me to fuck off. She was like, go punch a wall. So I did.”

“So that’s the true story of how you broke your finger?” Chris asked, “You told me you got into a fight.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you a punched a wall. And I didn’t even get the girl. It was a double loss, it’s not my type.” Lauren mouthed _a You’re unbelievable_ , but Darren merely laughed at her reaction, placing a hand on her thigh. Then he said to Chris, “I swear I’ll pay the fucking taxi back to the apartment if you have a story more embarrassing than mine.”

“Pull out your wallet. Nobody beats me in that category.” Chris finished the last sips of his glass. The way his eyes danced gave away his state of consciousness. He swallowed before adding, “Nobody.”

“Worse than four weeks of  plaster? I don’t believe it.”

“Last year of middle school, talents competition. You’ve no idea.”

“Oh, I need to know this.” Lauren cried in excitement.

“No, I don’t talk about that. Ever. It’s –no. It’s not going to happen.”

“Come on. I’ll pay the taxi and the last round of margaritas.” Darren tried to persuade him.

“You don’t have that much money.”

“I’ll pay the taxi and the last round of tequilas.” He corrected, pointing at him with a slightly swinging index finger.

“Well, I, um –Ugh, I’ll regret this. My only social life consisted in the drama club, and I had no idea the rest of the school would be so… roughly honest. And there was pressure from the teachers.” Chris shook his head, thinking that making out with the naked woman sculpture would be less embarrassing than confessing this. “I decided that singing Backstreet Boys’ _I want it that way_ would be a nice performance. Worst four minutes of my entire life.”

“Tell me it’s a joke.”

“I wish.”

“You metaphysically couldn’t be able to expose yourself to that level of embarrassment.” Darren stated seriously, while Lauren was making such squealing sounds while laughing that it seemed possible that she choked.

“It’s not funny!” Chris complained, upset, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

But he let out a giggle after saying this; knowing that despite the moment hadn’t been amusing at all for him, it did sound silly and funny (and sort of everything seemed silly and funny after five margaritas and the extra _cuba libre_ the house offered out of courtesy).

“This is too good. Waitress!” Darren called again, “A round of tequilas in honor of our highly believable Nick Carter.”

“Oh, shut up.” He made a pause, “And this is the last thing I’m drinking.”

Lauren rolled her eyes, “That’s what you said an hour ago. But seriously, last one. I need to send a job application tomorrow, and I have to be up at some point of the day for it.”

“Okay.” Darren yielded, and the look he shared with Lauren was not enough to resolve anything, “Let’s do this quick.”

They asked for the bill as the waitress placed the three shots in the table, and Darren made a quick countdown from three to one to lift their glasses up.

Chris’ glass was (surprisingly) the first whose bottom hit the table with a loud hit, and a sigh won out ahead an expression Darren had never thought he’d hear in his voice:

“But I don’t wanna go home.”

“Aaaand that’s our sign to leave.” Darren’s hand pushed blandly Chris’ shoulder as he got up.

They decided to leave a not-so-generous tip to counteract the terrible impact of the margaritas in their salary, and somehow someway they didn’t get killed in their attempt to catch a cab. _God, you’re so drunk_ , a not-less-drunk Lauren said to her boyfriend while she giggled not exactly knowing what she giggled at.

Wobbly loud steps echoed during the trip from the elevator until Darren found the key of the apartment, after an intense debate of _you got the keys_ _and I’m 100% you got them_ and _wow, look, they were in my pocket all the time._

“You know what we should do? You know what we should do?” Lauren repeated from the door, in the case there was a chance they hadn’t heard her right. Her voice sounded tremulous, like if she was out of breath, but it made clear she thought her idea was brilliant. “We should play I want it that way and sing along!”

“Don’t-”

Chris stayed standing up in the center of the room with a frozen expression, while Lauren closed the door of the apartment with a loud bang.

“Darren!” She called again, meanwhile Chris’ complaints were completely dismissed, “Put I want it that way _right-now.”_

Darren didn’t make himself beg, and with a few logy steps he searched for the video in his phone while he connected it to the stereo.

Lauren was taking off her shoes, jumping lightly to avoid falling, and she let out a loud screech as the first melodic lyrics sounded softly.

“Turn up the volume!” Lauren searched for Chris’ hands, and she strongly pulled from them, ordering excitedly, “You’ve _got_ to sing!”

“You’re insane. Like, genuinely out of your mind.” He couldn’t stop laughing, it was addictive, but this didn’t stop her from her conviction.

“Come on! I’ll be embarrassing with you!” She kept pulling from his hands like a five year old, but it was only someone like her who could make it cute and not completely annoying. She added softly, “Sing for us, honey.”

Chris still kind of hoped she was joking when she joined the _but we are two worlds apart, can’t reach to your heart_ part. And when he looked at Darren out of desperation, his eyes said above a wide laugh that _she’s never fucking joking_ , and before he realized Lauren’s hands were dragging him into some sort of weird dance, mildly twirling in their place and well shit –it was (hopefully) the alcohol’s fault but at some point he started singing too, and it didn’t feel enough like high school to feel the shame over the drunkenness.

Darren’s perfect high notes sounded strongly over the stereo sound at the chorus, because it was Darren and he couldn’t just not show off. And Chris’ usual self would normally freak out over the high possibilities of neighbors calling the police right then, but _wow_ he had drank so much more than what he planned and Darren and Lauren were actually so nice to be around, and he was having so much fun to realize how ridiculous that picture looked from the outside.

When the adagio part approached, Darren dragged one of the chairs from the table and (surprisingly balanced for his state) he stood up on it. He dramatically extended his arms to the side to sing the _you’re my desire, you are, you are, you are_ with probably more passion than the boyband itself, completely convinced they were in a music video.

Lauren grabbed Chris’ head as she modulated the last lyrics to give a theatrical effect, and she finally let him go when he was laughing so hard he couldn’t stay still, and she soon laughed too, because it was all so ridiculous.

She extended her hand to Darren, who was still standing in the chair, and he accepted it as he stepped in the ground with a loud tapping of his feet. He seized this movement to pull her closer, and by the time Chris had blinked they were making out again; their lips found each other like magnetism as soon as they were close. Their eyes were closed, Lauren’s body sort of grazing his, and Darren’s hands were on her lower back squeezing her dress so tightly that (despite Chris knew he shouldn’t think about it but at the same time he-couldn’t-stop-thinking-the-fuck-about-it) he wondered if it was conceivable that they had felt up each other that quick.

He had to admit that, while this was their new record, it was still impossible not to roll his eyes because the night had been too nice and he hadn’t feel like a third wheel before that and did they have any alcohol in the apartment? How had he survived without it before?

Lauren barely gave herself time to split from Darren’s lips and open her eyes, before calling quietly:

“Chris.” It was the first time she ever used that tone in the entire night, so he turned around from the opposite side of the room where he had walked to. She was still breathing heavily, and Darren’s hands were still on her waist, when she said slowly, “Have you ever been with a girl?”

“What?”

There was definitely something he heard wrong in that phrase.

Lauren turned around to face him. Her expression was serious, but her voice was calm. Chris just remained there, resting his weight slightly backwards against the edge of the table, and frowning like if she was talking in ancient Greek. The song had ended a while ago, and the silence was so pervasive that he felt it was intimidating to break.

“You know, like…” She rolled her eyes, “At least have kissed a girl, out of spinning the bottle.”

“Yeah, of course I kissed girls. I mean, I’ve never, like –had a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean…” He shook his head. He hadn’t taken the decision to tell someone –anyone- about this. “Your point?”

“Would you kiss _me_?”

The straight-to-the-point was too straight, and he could probably just never accept the simple and harsh way she said it. What was exactly happening?

“Um –what?”

_Weren’t we singing the Backstreet Boys like literally two minutes ago?_

She shrugged, like if she couldn’t understand what was so complicated about that question.

“What? Do you think I’m ugly or gross or something?”

“I –God, no. _At all_. You’re not…”

Could he press a button of _S.O.S. I’ve had enough questions_ _for the last thirty seconds_?

Of course Lauren had always been an attractive girl, and that even there with 2 pints of alcohol overhead and her bare feet a bit dirty, she still looked pretty, but it was just that she had never been someone he could kiss, or watch, or even have a personal opinion on. He was only Darren’s girlfriend.

Until she said that.

“Are you aware that Darren is standing behind you, right?”

_There_ , finally, a logical phrase.

But Darren just added, with his hands in his pockets, “Oh, I’m okay with this.”

“You’re –you’re okay with me kissing your girlfriend?”

“Totally.”

There was a moment of silence in which Chris genuinely wondered if they were making fun of him, or they were just too drunk and saying nonsense they’d forget about the next day.

“Can you just… forget about social conventions for a second?” She gave one step closer, slowly, like fearing to scare him with a sudden movement; and her voice sounded soft again.

_Can I?_

Lauren thought for a while that he’d roll his eyes, and go to his room and never talk to them ever again; and Chris himself also thought so, but somewhere between the cognitive decision and the actual movement, he gave a step forward too, and he never thought he’d see Darren grinning slightly before looking into Lauren’s eyes and sigh because well-shit-he-was-actually-going-to-kiss-Darren’s-girlfriend and he couldn’t determine exactly why but he wanted to do it.

When their lips met together it was soft, like in slow motion; because it was one of the first times they felt each other’s touch at all. So everything was asking permission, like a stranger who comes to your place for the very first time and is afraid to sit down or to intrude where they’re not wanted.

Lauren hated to admit that if she wasn’t so ridiculously and completely drunk she’d be nervous as fuck; but not even then she allowed herself to show it. This had been her idea since the start, and she wouldn’t turn tail now.

She tried to grope Darren behind him, but she couldn’t find him right away. His fingers intertwined with hers, and she pulled him closer, until she felt the confidence of his breath on the back of her neck.

And it was Lauren the one who placed a hand on his neck, still gently; and it kinda hit Chris then that it didn’t feel weird or wrong, and kissing _anyone_ was fun, but kissing _her_ was more than that; however, the alcohol didn’t allow him to decode all those different sensations.

At some point in all of this he decided that –fuck, if we’re going to do this- he was _actually_ going to kiss her, and his hands held the sides of her head as he deepened the kiss.

This surprised her, but she didn’t lag; and the sweet braze turned into a wave of wishing –to be closer, to touch more, to ask something out loud.

Chris was getting out of breath in the moment he felt Darren’s warm fingertips sliding from his shoulder to the curve of his neck, sort of guiding him, and he couldn’t really tell how, but then Lauren’s lips got away and it was Darren the one who was kissing him. His eyes hadn’t opened for a second, but he could tell. What was going on was unclear, but he didn’t think about it long enough to care.

Darren was different. Rougher. Cheekier. He didn’t waste time in foreplay or messing around, and Chris had to make an effort to keep himself balanced since Darren’s face rushed closely, and his nose and forehead grazed Chris’ face. Darren wasn’t slow motion, and he definitely didn’t ask permission neither.

Like Lauren, he tasted to alcohol. _Kind of obvious._ He could feel his breath, loud and hard to catch; and the tip of his fingers marked carelessly a barely noticeable caress over Chris’ skin, between his jaw and neck. The tip of his fingers were coarse; callused due the hours of playing the guitar, and he could feel them clearly above every touch. It was a microcosm of millions of different feelings, and he failed trying to cling into all of them.

Darren felt the smell of grapes intruding through his nostrils, and he gently pulled him a bit closer; and he knew that the way he kissed could result a little overwhelming, but he felt so right that it seemed his body couldn’t bear it and the way his chest seemed unable to contain his heart was almost scary.

Chris felt a sudden dizziness, different than the previous one, and a tightness in his chest. He stopped the kiss and pulled Darren away.

“Wait,” He said with a weak voice and affected expression, and proceeded to swallow a burp, “I’m going to throw up.”

A desperate and tottering run followed that warning, and he was gone in a second.

They couldn’t help but to giggle lowly, and there was a pause before Lauren looked at Darren raising an eyebrow.

“So?”

Darren placed his hands on her hips, while he grinned, and his voice came out playfully.

“ _Good_ weird.” He confirmed. He hadn’t really reached to genuinely believe that he had just kissed Chris, who had watched him bring a legion of people to have sex with him during the past years. Someone like Chris, who had actually abided with him going from breakup to breakup, and who knew every single complaint of the people who had dumped him. Were they really going to do this?

It was surreal, but that didn’t mean necessarily bad.

Lauren smiled as she tenderly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and she got closer with a satisfied whisper.

“Told you.”

A hustle and a disembodied lament came from inside of the bathroom.

Lauren gave Darren a soft nudge against his shoulder. “Mmm, someone should go to check that.” She said quietly, whilst her hands kept caressing slowly his back. “Someone like… you.”

“Why me?”

“Well, because I’ve done everything else.” She explained; and she placed her hands on his chest, pulling him away a bit, guiding him on the sly.

Darren squinted his eyes for a moment to show how offended he was, but he ended up knocking the door of the bathroom thirty seconds later. _How serious?_ Chris had asked when the night started.

_This_ serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops that escalated quickly.   
> I apologize for my failed attempts of being funny, among other things.  
> Thank you for reading!


	3. And satisfaction brought him back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks sooo much to all the people who had left kuddos or comments or reblogged this story on tumblr, it makes me insanely happy! I hope to not take so long for the next update, but as usual, college's been crazy and I was fighting a hard writers block.  
> This wasn't read as much as I wish before publishing, so I apologize if I edit during the next few days.   
> Also, things start to get dirty. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 3: And satisfaction brought him back**

“Are you seriously going to leave?”

Lauren was sitting down on the bed, legs crossed, hair undone and voice still raspy. Darren had warned before that he wasn’t going to be there when _it_ happened, but when she saw him getting dressed to go out, the anxiety was starting to cause her to repeatedly tap her fingers against the wall and to bite her lip more than what it was necessary and she was starting to doubt her previous statement of _Whatever, I can do this alone_.

“Yeah, I can’t watch this. It’s going to be terrible. I can’t.” Darren admitted after putting on a t-shirt. Lauren proceeded to bite her lip again and look at him, so Darren shook his head and pointed at her with an accusing finger.  “Oh, no, don’t do that. Don’t give me that look. _I’m going_. We agreed on this, it’s completely up to you.”

“I know I said that, but…”

“I’m leaving and only coming back in five years, with a two feet beard and with a new identity the government gives me to protect me or something.”

“You’re way overreacting.”

“Yeah.” He said, but he placed his hands over her lap to lean close and quickly add, “Goodbye.”

Lauren frowned, upset, as he gave her a quick kiss and walked through his bedroom’s door. She let out a breath she had been holding for a while.

Darren didn’t tell her where he’d go, but she could imagine, and it wouldn’t be such a big surprise if he didn’t get to the apartment until 3 in the morning.

Lauren decided that a warm shower and a cup of tea should be at least somewhat helpful for that not-so-terrible (but unwelcomed) hangover and the anxiety that started to grow from deep down in her stomach. So twenty minutes later her mood had considerably improved, she even had the solidarity to clean the mess of dirty dishes she was sure Darren left at the table.

It wasn’t common  that Chris was still asleep. She knew that clearly, because every time she was running late for morning rehearsal (because Darren’s the type that turns off the alarms and keeps sleeping) and she walked through the room while putting her hair into a ponytail and texting an invented excuse to her coach, Chris was already up making breakfast or reading and he always had the politeness to open the door for her after seeing her hands were busy with multiple tasks at once, and she was in such a hurry that she could only give a smile in return.

So she decided to use the hot water left to make a cup of tea for him as well.

She gently knocked on the door with a mellow tune, before slowly opening it. There was a shape shifting under the sheets which informed her there was still life there, but she remained by the door, just in case.

“Hey,” She finally called quietly. “How are you feeling?”

There was a pause before the embodied voice answered. “Like I’ve been eaten, digested and shitted _twice_ by an elephant or something.”

“Tea?”

Chris’ face appeared suddenly from the mess of cloth. He sighed like if he just had the most devastating night of his life, closing his eyes and resting the back of his head on the pillow. Lauren looked at him and could be absolutely certain that she didn’t know how the fuck she was going to do this.

Chris rubbed his eyes and said, “Are you a vampire? Come in.”

Lauren walked to the bed and handed him the cup of tea, hot and steamy in her hands. Chris used his hands as a support to sit up, and accepted the drink. His ached throat was begging him to.

“Thank you.”

Lauren took a spot at the feet of Chris’ bed, and rested her back on the wall.

It was the first time she ever was in Chris’ room. She noted it was  slightly smaller than Darren’s, but the difference gap was more than obvious. This room was highly  neater, there was a tiny bookshelf with a mess of notes on the top shelf next to the wardrobe, and there were a few burnt sticks of incense, which explained why the air felt so much fresh in there than in the rest of the house.

She waited for him to finish his tea. She came to the conclusion that hard and fast was the best, because there wasn’t a subtle way to board the subject.

“Last night was fun.” Subtle enough for a start.

“Yeah, I guess.”

That answer was way too vague to simplify what happened, and he wasn’t really paying attention, so Lauren decided to test her theory.

“Do you even… remember what happened?”

Chris grimaced, like if he was trying really hard to bring the memories back, but he finally said, “Just like…glimpses. It’s- I think I remember most of it, but I’m not sure.”

She knew he didn’t –he would never be talking about it so lightly otherwise.

“We got home and sang the backstreet boys. Do you remember that?”

“Oh, god, yes. Of course. That’s actually something I could’ve moved on without remembering.” Chris shook his head again, embarrassed. He remembered getting home and Darren playing that song and the first bits of it, but he had troubles with whatever happened afterwards. It was all fuzzy, and the flashbacks reached him one by one and he failed to connect them in sequence.

“Well, Chris…” She wet her lips before continuing, “Things happened last night.”

He looked at her with a straight face that was worrying enough by itself.

“What _things_?”

_Hard and fast_ , she said to herself. She wasn’t going to prove Darren right by being a coward.

“Um.” She took one last deep breath because she knew there wasn’t a way back from that point. “We kissed.”

Chris frowned and let out a sigh of disbelief. “ _We_ kissed? You and I?”

Lauren nodded slowly, “You kissed Darren too.”

She could’ve sworn his face went pale in a second. He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his face in an attempt to wake himself up. He wasn’t in the state to find out those news; he still felt dizzy and sleepy and the tea felt like coming up again. But as soon as she said it, he started to remember it. Darren’s _“Oh, I’m totally okay with this”,_ and Lauren’s shy grin while she muttered a bid he never imagined he’d hear, and then her lips and –shit, it actually happened. All of it.

And he kissed Darren. Darren, his roommate for 4 years. Darren, the person who’ve heard him saying the most embarrassing things like _Ugh, I woke up with diarrhea this morning_. It was so not okay. So out of limits.

And his girlfriend was there, at the feet of his bed, resting her head against the white wall and looking at him, like if she was expecting some sort of reaction.

“You poisoned that tea and I’m gonna die, right?”

It was the only explanation.

Lauren grinned slightly, “No.” She said calmly. “It’s okay, Chris. I wasn’t that –I mean, Darren and I were drunk, too. But we knew what we were doing.”

“Um, okay. What does that mean?”

“You more than anyone know how Darren’s relationship life has always been.” Lauren started explaining, trying to sound the most reasonable she could. “And I’ve had a similar history. So, a couple weeks ago, we decided to make a change in –um, the nature of the relationship.” She kept trying to decode something (anything) on his expression that made her know whether to continue or to stop, but clearly he had no idea where the conversation was leading to. “We started searching for someone who could like –um, _be_ with us. You know?” He didn’t. “And we thought, well, it was my idea, actually, but –it’s just a suggestion, don’t feel pressured to anything, we just thought… it could be you.”

Chris continued to frown and let out a long breath. He was sure that he lost the line of the conversation at some point, “Can you start over? I’m not… um, I’m not following you.”

Lauren realized she couldn’t have been more rambling, but she couldn’t find a way to be more direct and to not feel that embarrassed (and she wasn’t a person who could feel easily embarrassed). “I don’t think I can start over. What I’m trying to say is… we want you to be with us.”

Chris waited for something like an instinctive answer to come out, but nothing happened. So he made the best to order his thoughts.

“Like…date you?” He gulped slowly. “Both of you?”

Lauren nodded.

Chris suddenly stood up from the bed, and she thought he’d leave or kick her out, but he just walked around the small room, with an anxious hand messing with his hair and the other one placed on his hip.

Lauren waited for a few seconds for an answer or at least to hear something out of his throat, but he continued doing this for a while and it was only making her more nervous too.

“Are you okay?” She finally asked.

“Fuck, no. I’m not okay.” He finally snapped, standing still and looking at her. “I –I –how did you expect me to react to something like this?”

She really couldn’t make up a scenario any better than this out of a fictional world.

She frowned, ashamed. “I guess I forbidden myself to think about that.”

The hand that was on Chris’ hair slid slowly to the back of his neck, and he massaged the place where it meets his shoulder in an attempt to focus all the stress there.

“I am –this is… this is… I need to process this.” He felt in some sort of shock; the words came out of his mouth but he really didn’t think them through. He couldn’t.

“Sure.” Lauren agreed quickly, trying to calm the waters down.  She moved a bit closer to the edge of the bed so she could place her feet on the floor. “You can have all the time you need. Just promise me you’re honestly going to consider it. I know it’s a bit weird, but…”

“A bit?”

“I mean… this would be like –you wouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We’d discus everything to make it work but… shit, I don’t know. I just felt for a moment back then that you enjoyed it. I don’t know.” She repeated again; she was having troubles expressing the same discourse she had used before. It wasn’t the way to get to Chris and she knew it.

“I nearly hit an alcoholic comma, and could’ve easily kissed the waitress from Bahama Breeze and it would’ve meant the same.”

“Oh.” Lauren looked down for a second, disappointed. Whatever she had imagined, it wasn’t this. “Okay. I guess I saw something that wasn’t really there. I’m sorry I freaked you out.” She stood up, walking past him to get to the door. She grabbed the doorknob, and said before closing it,  with an unexpectedly bitter voice, “Just… don’t blame Darren for this, okay?”

It was like if she invoked it: her phone rang over the dinner table they never used. It was a text from Darren.

_“So, how horrible was it from 1 to 10?”_

She wasn’t going to answer at first; but she finally typed, resigned:

_“Fuck you.”_

 

* * *

Darren didn’t know how to handle anything that day. Should he call Lauren or should he not? Should he get to the apartment by midday, midnight, or just not ever at all? Should he get obscenely drunk until nothing made sense anymore?

He knew Lauren’s expectations were ridiculously high, and that she’d probably feel upset right then and that he should be there for her, but he still couldn’t get the balls to ask, so he decided to wait a bit more.

Because he had assumed it since the start: the plan was meant to fall apart. Chris would never accept such thing. Yes, he was very open minded and everything, but Darren just knew that he wasn’t the kind of person to get himself into a situation like that. Not that the kiss wasn’t absolutely great and hot and he hadn’t thought about it five times since he woke up, but he didn’t allow that to get his hopes up. He knew it’d crush him if he did.

“Hey,” Darren heard the voice behind him first, but it wasn’t long until the figure moved in front of him, and continued from the other side of his table, “What are you doing here alone?”

It was Sylvia. Darren had met her a few times before when he went to that bar since it was close to the theater, but it was indeed the first time he was ever there by himself.

People that go to a bar on a Sunday are sad people, it doesn’t matter if they’re smiling and wearing a tank top that outlines their perfect breasts, like Sylvia. They’re sad if it’s a Sunday and they’re at a bar.

“The same as you, my friend.” Darren said nicely, although she probably wasn’t going through anything nearly similar to him.

“Can I buy you a drink?” She asked, and her lips sparkling by the lip-gloss bent in a grin.

“I’m drinking juice today, but thank you.” He lifted up his glass to show he was being honest, and the girl raised her eyebrows, even more interested.

He didn’t want to be drunk when he got home and do something stupid (or at least, more stupid than what he could do sober).

“That’s two news today already.”

He noticed she was eager to talk and he let her do it, because he could use some company and distraction. He felt bad afterwards, it was obvious she was looking for something that wasn’t going to cross his mind at all. He had thought about asking her out a while ago, before Lauren, but then it was just not happening.

So he made up an excuse to leave when he felt it was necessary, convincing enough so she wouldn’t feel like she said or did the wrong thing.

_Please be sleeping,_ he wished as he stepped into the apartment, and he closed the door very slowly to be the quieter he could. It only took him five seconds before he turned around and saw Chris on his usual spot, usual glasses on his blue eyes, usual script over the counter.

_Shit_ , he whispered. But he must’ve said it out loud, because Chris grinned subtly, although he pretended to keep staring at the printed letters.

“I almost started thinking you moved out.” Chris finally said, glancing at the hour on the clock. His tone way too normal, and calm, or it was just that Darren was expecting the apocalypse and felt too sober and conscious for the talk ahead.

“I considered it. But the truth is that I can’t afford to pay the taxes on my own.” He walked to the counter and watched Chris from the other side. He placed his hands at the edges of the table, and stretched his arms to the sides.

When Chris finally looked up, he found that picture sincerely hilarious, because Darren seemed completely resigned and miserably ready to get yelled and screwed like never before in his life.

“I can take it.” Darren’s voice was severe. He wanted him to know it was serious. “Whatever it is you have to say.”

Chris took off his glasses and placed them on the counter. He paused a moment before starting to speak, and Darren thought this was a slow, painful death. _Why the fuck was he so calm? Why wasn’t he freaking out like a normal person?_

“Look, I had a very long day as well.” He lastly said. “I did my research. I’m afraid to say that now I know way more than what I ever intended to, and –this doesn’t mean I’m accepting anything _of course_ –”  He cleared up with a frown, just in case Darren would get conclusions ahead of time, “you guys aren’t _that_ … weird… as I first thought. I mean, I still hate Lauren for making me freak out earlier today. But I think I might sorta kinda understand you now.”

~

It was true. He almost felt a panic attack near because it all came out of nowhere and he just couldn’t believe something like that was could be proposed from someone he had known for so long, and the surrealism was stronger when Lauren leaved his room with shiny eyes and he couldn’t even call her because what the fuck was he going to say? But after he sat down, alone with his mind, for more than just a few minutes and he thought that if he was going to judge them, he should at least be informed and judge them based on true facts.

See that part of the horror movies when the main character types the name of that person they  suspect and they find out they’re a serial killer/vampire/crazy doctor/etc? That’s how Chris felt when he typed something he never felt he’d be interested to read about. And it was odd for a while, because he felt that was something from countries a million miles away or religions he’d never belong to, but at some point it made a little (just a little bit) of sense. When he started to get too carried away, he shook his head, closed his laptop and went to eat lunch.

But he found himself rushing to finish the last bite, and he opened his laptop and read more.

Not that he was considering it for himself _(Of course)_ but it made so much sense for someone like Darren, whom he heard saying multiple times about how stressing it was for him to make one person completely happy, or how he could never exactly tell what he did wrong when the relationship stopped working.

And –okay, yes, he had to allow himself that affirmation: he did like last night’s kiss, and the distant sensations he could recall were nothing but pleasuring, and –despite he wouldn’t admit it out loud- he’d do it again, sober and conscious and this time knowing exactly what to do. But that was all, a good drunk kiss ( _Right?)._ That didn’t mean he wanted to date them, because –shit, if he dated every person that he’d ever enjoyed kissing…

It just wasn’t for someone like him. His thing were normal dinners as a couple, and normal walks hand-by-hand and normal kisses by the door in which one leans in and the other just knows it and normal sex where one fucks and the other is fucked and that’s pretty much it. How’d something else even work out?

He remembered what happened after they sang. Darren pulled from Lauren’s hand to bring her close to his body, his forehead against hers and  his jaw opening widely to kiss her as if his life depended on it. Chris stared –he had always stared at them longer than what it was considered normal, but he eventually always looked away, so that couldn’t be a problem. Darren’s free hand took her waist to keep her in her place as he grinded against her, discretely but not enough to go unnoticed. Lauren kinda smiled into the kiss, and Chris wondered if it was because Darren was hard and, for a short moment, he imagined he was in the middle of that randy kiss. Lauren’s arms around his waist, messing with his shirt from behind in a tempting caress and slowly sneaking her hands under the cloth while she kissed slowly the side of his neck. Darren grabbing the back of the other side of his neck, his forehead against his, his eyes closed tightly and lips barely opened, a warm alcohol breath against his own lips, while he grinded his erection against him nonstop.

Two different breaths and rhythms; two worlds of sensations at the same time. It was something so new and unexplored; he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Fantasy-Lauren smiled naughtily as she moved her mouth to his ear to whisper, purposely cruelly, _“do you wanna fuck us now, honey?”_ and fantasy-Darren kissed him roughly for a moment and then he crossed looks with Lauren and he smiled too, Darren’s cock was twitching still pressing tightly against his while he went out of breath for a moment. This time, he merely was a toy they managed as they pleased. But he liked it.

Chris only noticed he was groping himself over his boxers when it was too late, and he thought to himself: _shit –look who’s hard now_.

It just wasn’t for someone like him or he just never considered it?

And if he said yes, how bad could it get?

Or how good?

_But, but, but, what about normal the relationship with normal sex? That’s your thing,_ the voice of common sense (he hoped) said in his inside.

_Okay, but what about the possibility of getting fucked and getting a blowjob at the same time?_

He was groping himself under his boxers now, and that was a voice he couldn’t just shut out.

~

“Anyway, and I repeat: I’m not saying yes,” Chris continued, “I wanted to know if you… I’ve never –Before this came out, I’ve never imagined you could feel something for me.” He finally let out. This had been one of his bigger concerns. He had always thought Darren was something else, but their relationship was completely platonic and he never pondered that feeling to be nothing but reciprocal until that point. “What’s going on with that?”

He said he could take it, but maybe anything else besides that question.

“It’s strange, Chris. I’m not sure what I feel. Honestly.” He wet his lips, “I think there could be something there. I don’t know. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, because you’re one of the most important persons in my life. But there can be something great there, like… We had our moments, right? And once that Lauren got it into my head…. The fucking _what if_ … it hasn’t stopped.” He shrugged. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. I’ve sort of assumed you’d say no, and if I have to find another apartment you can just say it now.”

Chris laughed. “You definitely don’t have to find another apartment. But I’m not-”

“You’re not saying yes. Got it.” Darren interrupted him. He sighed, “Was it too weird, today? Breaking Lauren’s heart?”

Chris shook his head, “I’m sorry about that. You should check up on her. I overreacted a bit.”

“You probably overreacted the fair amount for someone in your situation. But yeah, I’ll call her now, to make her now it’s all good.” He took his phone out of his pocket, but he looked at Chris and added before dialing, “It was her idea, you know.”

“I’ve been told.” He replied.

“Hypothetically speaking, what could make you…? I mean, I thought you’d be repulsed by the idea and would never talk to me again, so there’s obviously a factor.”

“I don’t take decisions based on drunk kisses.” Chris simply answered. He grabbed the glasses and script from the table and walked away.

Darren turned around to see Chris getting into his room; phone on his ear, Lauren’s line ringing.

“Chris.” Darren called, “You didn’t say no.”

He grinned cheekily, without looking at him, but he didn’t say anything else before closing the door.

 ~

Lauren sounded devastated. Darren realized there was a part sarcastically faked for comic results, but there was a part of her truly hurt too. It took him half an hour of _babe, I promise it’s fine, you didn’t ruin anything,_ but she finally claimed she was tired and needed sleep and she said goodnight.

And in that moment, he knew it. It was up to him now.

 

 

* * *

 

Interruptions bothered Chris.

Especially when they’re completely unnecessary.

So whenever he was talking to Janet, the director, and someone interrupted them, he couldn’t avoid to roll his eyes and look away, that cue of presumption was sort of natural for him because he’s been used to be in this place of favoritism for years. Not that he liked it, he was waiting for the moment to get a job as a play writer anywhere but in that theatre, but he knew he had to be patient and work hard until his moment came along. So far, he’d have to satisfy himself with giving advices for the production of the current play and getting only half of them being actually set in action.

And that was pretty much what that Monday’s morning rehearsal had been about, talking about the last adjustments of their remake of the musical “Bye bye birdie”, when someone walked in, and Chris just couldn’t help but to roll his eyes. At first he didn’t pay attention, and stayed sitting there at the edge of the stage disposed to wait until the intruder was gone, but when Janet gave a loud extremely affectionate greeting, he recognized the figure walking in and he couldn’t believe it.

“Darren? What are you doing here?” the shocking tone of his voice was near the ingratitude, but the words came out before he could attempt to control them.

Darren calmly greeted Janet, who  had jumped from the stage, with a kiss on the cheek; and only then he politely explained with a smile:

“I’m just here to visit Chris, I have my rehearsal only at midday, so I guess I’ll be here for a while…”

“What a sweet friend…” Janet commented, thrilled.

“Visit me? You’ve never visited me in four years.”

Chris’ comment went dismissed for the director, who was too busy flattering Darren.

“There’s always a first time for everything.” Darren walked to Chris, and he whispered with a cheeky grin, “You should know that already.”

“Come with me, honey, we have so much to talk about.” Janet called him, and then added, “Chris, let’s start the rehearsal.”

Chris shook his head as he watched them leaving, wondering what the fuck was Darren up to now.

He felt uncomfortable during the entire first run through the play; he could glance to Janet and Darren chatting like a pair of old friends at the side of the stage, and he just had this weird feeling and he couldn’t focus on the practice at all. He knew Janet wanted him for the cast, but Darren never seemed interested on the offer before, so why’d he show up right then?

“It’s almost midday.” Chris finally announced, almost an hour later, placing a hand on Darren’s shoulder and without minding at all to interrupt a conversation. “You should get going.”

It was more than obvious for Darren that Chris felt he was being intruding and out of place; but that was an essential part of the plan.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling.” Janet said quickly,  “We’ll call a taxi for you. Meanwhile, I need you to help Chris with that, if you can.”

“It’ll be my pleasure.” Darren replied with a very convincing charm on his voice.

“What could you possible help me in?” Chris asked, upset.

“Dressing room.” Darren indicated. Chris understood and walked –against his will- to the costume room. “She wants me to help you to pick your costume for next week. Apparently, she thinks your fashion taste is pretty lame.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, come on. I’ll be gone in a moment and you’ll be the favorite again. Let me enjoy this.” Darren asked, finally abandoning that charming sort of fake voice, while they walked in the dressing room, replete of hangers with the most bizarre and eccentric clothes you could imagine.

“I wouldn’t be that sure. Janet is completely in love with you. She might ask you to work here during the next season or something.”

“Really?” Darren found Chris’ section and gave him the three hangers with different variations of the same costume.

He’d quit his current job and accept one in the Theater Lab in the blink of an eye; but he never really believed the rumors saying that they wanted him.

Chris grabbed the clothes and ordered, “Um. Turn around.”

Darren raised his eyebrows, almost offended. “Oh, come on. I’ve seen you getting out of the bathroom in your underwear like a thousand times. Don’t be a baby.”

Chris swallowed and couldn’t talk back for a second because the mention of Darren observing him while he was in underwear wasn’t the same as two days before.

“What did you say about pressure yesterday?”

Darren pressed his lips together for a bit, “Okay, you win.”

He turned around and pretended to admire the huge collection of clothes, but for some reason, it didn’t make it better and when Chris said _done_ after putting on those obscenely tight jeans, green shirt and plaid vest, he felt Darren never stopped staring.

Darren grimaced, “That vest is definitely out of our options.” He stated, and it was clear that his word was saint this time, “Try out the jacket of the suit.”

Chris was sure that all the options would look the same amount of ridiculous since the play was settled in the 70s, and there was nothing he could wear from that time to be taken seriously. But he obeyed anyways because it was the easiest way out of the situation.

“See? That’s way better.” Darren seemed satisfied with the result. He approached Chris, and suited more neatly the folds of the collar of the jacket.

Now that he was closer, Chris seized it to talk quieter, and this time, his voice was serious. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“What do you think I’m doing here, Chris?” Darren’s voice came out raspy and low, and he didn’t step back when he stared back at his eyes; it was only then when Chris could tell he was actually kind of too close for a normal chat.

“I think you’re trying to freak me out, since it seems an usual hobby of that girlfriend of yours as well.”

Darren giggled shortly.

“You said you wouldn’t make a decision based on a drunk kiss.”

Since the beginning of that line Chris sorta sensed he’d lean in, and he couldn’t have stopped him not even if the law forbid it, because he needed to know if what he felt was real.

It was a gentle kiss, at least most of it. Chris closed his eyes and forbid himself to think because he knew that was a dangerous zone, and allowed himself to get carried away by the slow stroke of Darren’s lips against his.  

Darren’s lips didn’t taste to alcohol this time, but it still made him feel a little drunk, if it made sense. His fingers sank deeply on his hair, -like the fantasy-Darren in his imagination last night, he was always passionate and a bit rough in the perfect amount to drive anyone crazy. Chris’ breath was already getting hard to catch, when a hand grabbed his jaw to deepen the kiss, and he kinda lost it there because _shit_ Darren was a good kisser and he felt like if something melted inside him and that was something he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager and he had to sneak out to a hidden place to make out with someone.

It was different than the last one. Darren’s grip was gentle, and the skilled but thought-out movement of his mouth gave away that he was trying to prove something –and succeeding. He knew Chris was tempted and he was determined to drag him all the way to the other side.

Chris couldn’t tell when he decided to grab his waist to pull him closer (maybe he never really decided to do anything in this storyline), and Darren cut the kiss to giggle, but he didn’t pull away. He knew Chris noted he was being treated like some sort of challenge to fulfill, but he also enjoyed he wasn’t able to stop himself from falling into the tramp.

He looked into Chris’ eyes again, and the moment seemed to freeze when a distant noise interrupted them ( _Interruptions bothered him so-fucking-much_ ).

“Darren! Are you there?” He had never hated so much to hear Janet’s voice. She continued calling Darren’s name from the hall for a while, but Darren didn’t seem to notice.

Darren was catching his breath and Chris was the first one to say something.

“We spent 15 hours a day in the same house. Why here?”

Darren shrugged and wet his swollen lips before answering, “Take it as a note that you’re not enough approachable at home.”

Chris grinned.

Their hands had moved away from each other by the time Janet opened the door to announce his taxi was waiting.

“I’ve gotta go.” Darren said to him. He was still completely ignoring the woman.

Chris nodded slowly. He didn’t know what to say.

“Come on, honey, the taxi is waiting!”

“I’ll be there in a sec, okay? Give me a moment.” Darren said dryly to the woman, who leaved the room offended by this sudden change of attitude.

Darren looked at Chris.

“You wanted a sober kiss, that’s your sober kiss.”

There was a silence. A silence that was long enough to speak for itself. Darren pressed his lips together, and for some reason he felt the heat of the kiss was vanishing, being replaced by a feeling of rejection; and he started to understand Lauren. He avoided  Chris’ gaze as he turned around to leave.

“So…” Chris said after what it felt like an eternity, when he was at the door already. “If this is happening, we need to discuss about the dirty dishes.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! A review would mean the world.


	4. Resolved sexual tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Patience is a virtue" Darren would optimistically say while Chris rolled his eyes. It’s been like this since they met and he wasn’t patient –for anything, and least that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I apologize for the delay, I've been crazy with college(s)! I've also spent much more time than the planned writing this stupid chapter.  
> On the good side, THEY HAVE THE SEX! Kind of.   
> Warnings are the same I gave in the 1st chapter. This includes dirty talking, handjobs, blowjobs, masturbation, bisexuality and other sins.   
> If you make it to the end, I seriously admire and love you, and would also LOVE to know what you think! I am forever thankful for anyone that reads my dirty stuff :)

**Chapter 4: Resolved sexual tension**

He still kinda didn’t believe that he said what he said even ten hours later, when he was brushing his teeth and (failing at trying not to) wonder why Darren didn’t come home yet.

Not that he cared that much –he really didn’t, right? But he was just worried since (after that heated and significantly long kiss) he had said (with a smirk under cheeks that were turning a bit rosy) _great, see you tonight_.

Why’d he say _great, see you tonight_ if that was the only night he decided to go back after midnight? Would he go to Lauren’s place to laugh about the way they messed with his head?

And not that he had made some expectations about it, anyway.

Chris kept trying to ignore the nuisance in the pit of his stomach and the fact that he was completely upset when he turned off the lights and went to (try to) sleep.

Exactly in the exact moment when he thought he’d finally catch Orpheus and get unconscious, a beam of light entered through a half-open door and an unexpectedly soft voice asked:

“Hey, Chris, you sleep?”

He still couldn’t completely open his eyes to see the figure blurring out the light from the living room, but he didn’t need to.

“No, I’m just practicing.” His throaty voice answered, he almost felt it wasn’t his mouth where the sound was coming from.

Darren giggled shortly under his breath. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to-” He said, despite he had walked inside Chris’ dark room and was standing up next to his bed.

“It’s alright.” Chris whispered, but he didn’t strain into sitting up. He rested his arm over his forehead, looking at what he assumed to be Darren, but it was so obscure he couldn’t really see a thing. He had waited for that moment to happen all day, but he was so sleepy he couldn’t even remember that he was supposed to be nervous. “What’s going on?”

Darren hesitated before giving a response. “I don’t know. I was just thinking about what happened earlier today and wondering if you still felt the same way.”

Something inside of his stomach seemed to get punched but he did everything in hand to disguise it, as the question snapped almost before he finished the sentence, “Why?”

“I didn’t want to force you to anything. Everything has happened so fast. I just want to make sure you’re okay with whatever you decide about this whole thing.”

Chris didn’t know what to do with that speech; he couldn’t even determine whether it was an apology or a justification. He rested his weight on his elbows to sit up.

“Where does this come from and why are you saying it at 1 in the morning?”

Darren bit his lip, “I was just at Lauren’s and… We were talking about everything that’s been going on. She’s worried you might feel pressured or something.”

“Well, I haven’t done anything precisely against my will so far.” Chris made a pause, but it wasn’t easy to find the right words when he just wanted to go back to sleep. “But it’s nice of her to worry… Look, can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Darren shook his head, like snapping a thought of it. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll talk tomorrow. Go back to sleep.”

Chris felt he was already sleeping when he said that, and by the next morning he kinda couldn’t limit what truly happened from what he dreamed about, although he was pretty convinced the unspeakable things the pair did to him in another recurring dream would be quite unforgettable to have been real.

The next morning, Darren hadn’t yet waken up when Chris went to rehearsal. He was there when he came back though, guitar resting against the couch –he knew its handle would still be warm if he touched it, his fingers playing with the remote, switching between a few channels without seeming to pay enough attention.

“Hey,” Chris called as he took a seat in the armrest of the couch.

“Hey, how was rehearsal?” Darren looked at him shortly as he asked.

“Exhausting.”

“To pretend you’re content with your role?”

“As usual.”

“You know, something…”

“Bigger is coming. Yeah. I know.” He finished Darren’s usual inspirational quote as he knew it’d end. It’s been like this since they met and he wasn’t patient –for anything, and least that. _Patience is a virtue_ , Darren would optimistically add while Chris rolled his eyes. “It seems your day’s been pretty intense as well.”

“Can you tell?” Darren answered with a grin, stretching his body on the couch.

Chris prepared some coffee. Darren observed him leaning against the backrest of the couch, the steamy cup grazing his lips while he absently ran his thumb through the screen of his phone.

“Lauren’s coming.” He added then, after a long pause, like if the words had been in the tip of his tongue for a while.

“Mmm,” Chris muttered, not sure how he was supposed to reply, “okay.” He looked at Darren. “Is it really that hard to believe that I accepted whatever this is about?”

Darren’s eyebrows went up for a second, like if he was analyzing the question, “It kinda is.” He grinned mildly, “I think you’re finding it hard to believe yourself.”

Chris made a tilt with his head, “That’s true. But why’d you guys ask me this if you always thought I’d say no?”

“Self-internalized desire for rejection. The way you look when you get out of the shower. Amongst others.”

Chris giggled, and it almost even wasn’t to avoid replying to the mention of Darren putting and eye on him when he got out of the bath. Almost.

Darren didn’t want things to get weird, but they got weird since he imagined Chris doing things roommates don’t do whatsoever, so he wasn’t working that hard to maintain a restraining filter in what he said anymore. Just enough as Lauren found appropriate, because she was the one who knew about relationships.

There was a knock on the door.

Darren got up from the couch as if electricity suddenly traveled through it, and Chris forgot to pretend he didn’t gaze at them when they kissed, until he remembered that they were doing this -strange, crazy, inappropriate- thing, and that he could watch everything he wanted to without feeling like a complete creep. _Everything?,_ he thought, and he suddenly felt the need to stare at the brown liquid in his cup because his zappy imagination was fucking incontrollable, and it was _way_ too soon to let any of that slipping into a conversation.

Darren closed the door. There was a short moment that lasted probably less than ten seconds but felt like a century, where Lauren walked to the couch and the only sound in the room were her footsteps rhythmically on the floor and a lame tampon ad in the television ( _I’ve never felt so free!_ The woman said dramatically. How inspiring and appropriate).

Chris felt none of them really didn’t know what to do, and he could sense the anxiety and inadequacy climbing up his stomach.

Luckily, Lauren walked to him, saving the day, “Hey.” She said, and Chris kind of froze for a second when she gave him a short kiss on the lips because, well, it was Lauren and she was giving him a kiss on the lips. And nobody was drunk. And it didn’t cause feelings of anxiety or inadequacy in his belly.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” She said sweetly, but the swiftness of that sentence gave away a tinge of shyness before she added, casual again, “I brought a few movies we can watch,” She suggested, leaving her bag on the coffee table. “Can we get Chinese food or something? I’m starving.” She placed a hand on her stomach and then let her body fall into the couch.

“What did you bring?” Darren asked, grabbing the phone from its stand.

“You’re not gonna like it.” Lauren warned, taking her bag again and stirring inside until she found the movies. She reclined her feet on the skimpy table, and passed the DVDs to Chris. She gave him a look full of grudge before commenting, “He never likes any of my movies.”

“That’s not true.” Darren limited himself to say while his fingers dialed the delivery’s number. “I liked the Benjamin Button’s one.”

Lauren didn’t roll her eyes with it was almost like if her entire body did, “ _You_ choose that one.” She tore half page of the telephone directory that was on the table and crumpled it into a ball, but he skillfully caught it with his free hand and a prideful grin.

Lauren snapped her tongue in disappointment.

“Oh, Trainspotting…” Chris mentioned, “It’s one of my favorites. It’s very bizarre, but the soundtrack makes it like a thousand times better.”

“ _Yes!_ Thank you.” Lauren seemed highly joyful to have found a similar opinion, “It’s what makes the movie. Lou Reed’s _Perfect day_ …”

“I _love_ that song,” Chris’ excitement didn’t let him notice he interrupted her. Leaving his phone on the table, he quickly added, “It’s just flawlessly composed and performed…”

Lauren didn’t say anything, she just smirked, looking at Darren and giving him a look that said a proud _Told you so_. Darren threw the paper ball back at her.

 

* * *

 

 

Not that he was disappointed, (in the lack of a more appropriate word… right?) but it was just that he might have thought that… Chris shook his head at, well, sort of _everything_ that had gone through his head during the entire day.

It was nice, actually. More than nice, it’s one of those days that are meant to make you feel melancholic years after. It’s only that he supposed maybe… He turned to the other side of the bed. _Now it’s the time to fucking sleep._

They watched Trainspotting. He finished his coffee, and let his body slip through the backrest to the actual couch. Not very casual, but Lauren didn’t say anything and he sensed her discretely getting a bit closer. (And he really wasn’t a cuddler or a touchy kind of person, not even with someone he wanted. But for some reason he wanted that now.) 

Darren sat next to Lauren during the first fifteen minutes, until the food arrived, and then he sat to the other side of Chris and his heartbeat kind of speed up at first. He couldn’t even remember if the food was good because his mind was in an alarming state during the first half hour. The lights off and the movie really made everything easygoing and comfortable, but he felt so… at the expectance. Like waiting for something he didn’t know he wanted or not. But besides Darren’s arm casually resting at times in the backrest and playing with his back,and Lauren mildly falling asleep on his shoulder, - actually, nothing that different from watching any movie with them in the past, that was kind of it.

By the end of the movie, they both said goodnight with a quick kiss and Lauren called a taxi before Darren walked to his room, and _hell_ it couldn’t be frustration what it was keeping him up, because… because he’s a decent person, and decent persons don’t want other persons to do the deed with them. In a couch… during and/or watching Trainspotting…preferably over the coffee table…

_Fucking-sleep._

  

* * *

 

 

A week passed by. It was kind of amazing, of course, disregarding the fact that he woke up at the middle of every night from an obscene dream and a certain concentration of blood in his dick that wasn’t easy to ignore. But leaving that aside, it was nice to hang out with Darren and Lauren and just do common, daily things with more or less playful kisses, and more or less hands on places –shoulders, hips, tummy and thighs (And it didn’t go unnoticed for him that those casual touches were increasing thorough the days). It felt very _relationship_ deal, and not even a kind of relationship he hadn’t been involved in.

So that evening when Lauren complained of their completely lack of interest in helping her to make a nice desert she had been obsessed to try, Chris offered his –although talentless- good intentions. He worked into an attempt of help for the apple pie crust for a few minutes, before she fixed a judgmental eye on him.

“What?” Chris asked, leaving the mixer on the bowl as if he was a little kid daring to touch something he wasn’t supposed to.

Lauren skipped the list on her mind of the things he was doing wrong to proceed to do it correctly. Chris crossed his arms, observing in silence; and after a while she dipped a spoon into the bowl and added, swaying it into his mouth.

“This is how it’s supposed to taste.”

He didn’t want to admit that his dough could’ve easily been a dump in comparison, so he gave a silently nod of defeat while the thick substance thawed on his tongue. It was freaking delicious.

“Well, you can cut the apples if you want…” She suggested in an attempt of encouragement, and he let out a sarcastic snort of complaisance.

“I don’t know if I can handle the responsibility.”

“And that’s why I don’t help anymore.” Darren said, giving Chris a quick wink and approaching Lauren from behind while she continued churning the dough.

He placed a hand on her hip, his head intruding into whatever she was doing while he tried to sneak his other hand into the bowl.

“Uh-uh. You don’t help, you don’t get to lick the spoon.”

Darren whispered something that sounded kinda like _I can lick whatever the fuck I want_ , and proceeded to savagely lick a path through Lauren’s neck until the back of her ear. She whirled, giggling frenetically, trying to pull him away, but the grip on her hip turned swiftly into a wrap around her belly that pulled her against his body, her perfectly shaped bum against him. Her tank top had suddenly lifted up with that struggle of hands, and Darren’s fingers ran through that portion of bare skin, pressing lightly in places close to _other places_ , his head still cradled in her neck.

When they heard the squeak of the stall, Chris was already gone.

Darren’s grip loosened and Lauren folded the corner of her lips in a self-reproving gesture before looking at Darren with a frown, “What’s wrong with him?” She asked, looking for a clue that could indicate her suspicions weren’t correct.

“I’ll check up on him,” He said calmly instead.

Lauren nodded, sharply letting out a breath and turning on the mixer again.

“You know, normal people knock,” Chris commented sarcastically from the bed, when Darren stepped into the room.

“Lucky I’m not normal people.” Chris couldn’t determine the moment that he decided to let that comment make him smile. He sat at the middle of the bed, his legs touching Chris’, unexpectedly intruding. “What’s up?” It could easily have been a question a teenage boy gave to his friend with a bump of his knuckles, which was very ironic.

“I just got this sudden urge to lie down in my bed and…”

“Chris.”

That last call was dead serious.

He pressed a hand against his temple while a sigh escaped from his throat. And when he spoke it came off gentler, “I just thought that we’d –um, I’m wondering if I’m doing something that’s keeping us away from…” Darren was looking at him, with a frown that was partly out of curiosity and of confusion, “By this time…”

“If you’re talking about sex, you’ll have to start being more explicit from now on.”

The casual mention of the word S-E-X in Darren’s lips shouldn’t have such an effect on him, because, let’s be honest, Darren had said that word and its derivatives a lot, a lot, _a lot_ of times before, but it had never been a sex that could possibly involve him. But it’s just that he and his imagination was so at the verge lately, and any pseudo-erotic event succeeded at decomposing him, and that just wasn’t something that had ever occurred to him because he’s usually the kind of people that asks to turn off the lights and gets between the sheets because he’s not, like, _ashamed_ , but it’s not something he’s openly comfortable about neither.

“Yes, that’s what I’m talking about.” Chris finally snapped, like a deadly sentence. He tried to keep with Darren’s stare but he got momentarily aware of how close they were to each other and how there wasn’t a sound in the room besides their quiet voices, and Lauren’s background cooking.

Darren’s expression quickly changed from entertainment to concern. “God, no. You didn’t do anything wrong, I swear. We were trying to take it slow until you’re used to all of this. You know, since you said we should give it a try first. Trust me, if it were for us…” For some reason, he cut that phrase off. 

Chris felt incredibly pathetic for a moment; his eyes fell to Darren’s leg grazing his own bent knee. From that perspective it actually sounded very smart, and something he should agree with. “Oh… yeah, sure. That’s… understandable.”

“But… it’s for you.” Darren continued, “It’s whenever you want.”

And all the possibly meanings encrypted into that sentence gave Chris a very funny feeling in his stomach.

Darren placed a hand on Chris’ neck before leaning into a slow kiss, gentler than any they shared before. It wasn’t even an option not kissing back at this point; he only closed his eyes to allow sensations to guide him. Darren’s fingertips tapped his jaw, right before they closed in a tighter grip around the back of his neck and –keeping that slow but steadfast rhythm, he deepened the kiss.  

Chris’ hands ran from Darren’s hipbones to the curve in his lower back, frustrated by the fabric of his shirt getting in the way, but seizing the grasp to move forwards, settling closer, Darren’s knee slightly pressing against his crotch and _God_ he couldn’t just not notice that he had been hard for the last ten minutes.

“I don’t think I can wait anymore.” Darren could barely hear Chris’ whisper, but he didn’t need it to be loud to notice the lust in it. “I want it.”

For a second he thought Darren was going to say something like _patience is a virtue_ , as usual, and he’d have to take his eyes off with a spoon because he hated that quote so fucking much; but he didn’t say anything.  And he kind of hated, too, to cause that smirk of satisfaction on his lips but _not really_ because Darren’s leg was still pressed against his crotch, and he was gathering all his willpower not to rub against it.

The sound of someone clearing their voice at the door frame made his heart skip a beat before reminding to himself there was no reason for it.

“Am I interrupting something?” Lauren’s entertained voice asked. She was raising an eyebrow, as if waiting for an explanation.

“Actually,” Darren said, “we gotta talk.”

 

* * *

 

 

The apple pie was delicious, which somehow felt important. After cooking, Lauren’s clothes were made a mess, so she had to take a shower and wore an everyday outfit she claimed she wasn’t supposed to wear _that_ night. Upset, she obliged Darren to put on a pair of pajamas so she wouldn’t feel that inadequate, although he was so lazy he wasn’t hard to convince.

Lauren opened a bottle of champagne as she served the dessert that night. They shared a pleasant talk by the table, until they finished talking about the theatre and the last movie they saw and there was sort of a tense environment in the room. Not an inherently uncomfortable tension, but more like what people feel being in line to see their favorite artist in concert.

Darren made a pretentious comment about an astrology post he read online, so he walked to the window to show Lauren something that sounded vaguer and less fascinating than what he thought, probably. Chris didn’t feel like pretending he cared about that, so he went for another glass of champagne at the counter. Lauren squeezed her eyes at this, to make clear she was watching over him.

“What?” Chris defended himself.

“Just don’t get drunk, can you?” The caring tone of her voice disengaged with her last expression. “We need you in all your senses tonight.”

The hand holding his glass suddenly tightened.

It wasn’t long until they ran out of conversations again, and Darren’s flirty lines turned into touches, on shoulders, knees and hands at first. Chris observed out of the corner of his eye how he whispered something into Lauren’s ear, she giggled and then sucked her neck while he went for the third glass of champagne.

It wasn’t long until he went for it and kissed Chris again.

Darren kissed him softly, like he did earlier that day, and Chris thought that he could get used to this new, unexpected side of him. One of Darren’s hands was grasping with a moderate strength the hair at the back of his head, holding him on his place while he snogged him, and the other at the side of his body. Darren ran that hand over his torso so hard that he felt perfectly the shape of his ribs under the layers of cloth, skin and meat. His fingers spreading firmly, and Chris’ heartbeat speeded up.

Chris placed a hand on Darren’s hipbone, exactly in the spot above those thin pajamas pants that were always tentatively low, letting that distracting V-line show off. Darren’s tongue slipped in Chris’ mouth and gently pushed against his before cutting the kiss, like in a playful lick.

“Couch,” He only said, his hands now guiding him to walk a few steps backwards. Then, like if something suddenly switched inside him, he shoved Chris on the couch. He almost couldn’t find the time or mental state to place his hands at the sides of his body and thus land peacefully, because Darren’s eyes were fervently fixed on his, and it was physically impossible to look away.

_Sweet-Jesus_ , he had never seen Darren like that. It only hit him then that it wasn’t only in addition to someone else when Darren made _things_ to him; his only, well, person itself could be imminently hot, too.

He straddled in front of him, although kind of far for his preference, the simple landscape of Darren in that position and his wide shoulders, and deep brown dilated eyes, and that warm, warm hand on his neck again were enough to make him half hard already. Then he leaned down and Chris breathed in loudly when his tongue ran through a line on his neck, to his jaw. Darren exhaled through his mouth and the warmness of the air he held hit Chris face with such intimacy that he closed his eyes to feel it better.

Darren then passed his left knee over Chris’ legs, proceeding to sit down next to him and without saying a thing. He almost complained by that abrupt isolation, but he didn’t have much time to do so. Lauren, who had been silently and patiently watching, sitting on the armrest of the couch, practically _crawled_ in four until Darren’s lap –yes, it looks as good as porn movies make us believe-, and sat there, facing Chris next to him, who was still kind of in an alarming state of shock, horniness and everything in between.

She was still wearing that pink tank top that adjusted so flawlessly to her petite figure, and well-worn black, very tight shorts. Darren quickly slid a hand on her lower back, under Lauren’s shirt, and started kissing her shoulder and sucking her neck; although she merely reacted like it. On the contrary, she softly ran the tip of two fingers through Chris’ arm, starting at his wrist and slowly going up to his shoulder, taking a pause there. It was such a vague touch that it made him want to quaver. She pressed a bit harder against his skin, continuing the puckish touch on his neck, scribbling the contour of his Adam apple. Chris wondered if she could feel him gulping heavily. The sole of her bare feet laid on the intern part his lap, close to his thigh, but they felt light and kind of friendly instead of heavy and possessive.

“Take off your shirt.”

It was an order, despite she said it lowly. And her tone of voice –her _fucking tone of voice._ It wasn’t an option to deny.

“Okay.”

Chris grabbed the neck of his shirt from the place between his shoulders, and pulled from it until it was off. He left it on the part of the couch that wasn’t being taken, and he bit his lip so roughly he thought he’d feel the blood on his mouth. Lauren had just straddled him the exact same way Darren did before, except she actually sat down there, on his lap, in a firm, intended contact with his crotch.

She was bossy, but her eyes shined differently than Darren’s. They were dancing all over Chris’ face and naked skin, and he mentally begged her to do or say something in what he felt an eternity before she actually spoke.

“God,” she whispered. She placed her thumbs on Chris’ cheekbones, gently sliding them through his jaw, and then through his light-skinned chest, the short hairs slightly bristling at the contact; while she confessed with admiration, “You’re gorgeous.”

If it’s possible that being in a situation where you’re shirtless in a couch, with a growing erection caused by two people, because you _explicitly asked them_ to just fuck with you already, but what will pile up a rosy color on your cheeks is a comment like that; then that’s what happened.

He didn’t know whether to thank the compliment or what, but Lauren just leaned into his lips and kissed him, and he was deeply glad she did. He closed his eyes and tried to guide the kiss because, well, after all he’s a _man_ and so far he hadn’t done anything besides laying there and get –um, hard.

He sensed Darren moving next to him, probably taking off his shirt or something, and the heartbeat on his chest got even louder, ringing in his ears. _Fucking hell, it was happening_. Those wet, inappropriate dreams that made him wake up at 3am, sometimes at the mind-bending but torturing edge of the climax.

Lauren’s brunette hair fell onto her face, and Chris put it back into its place while his hand held her head, in that place behind her ear. She adroitly caught up with the rhythm of his lips, and he almost didn’t notice why the palm of her hands placed on his chest, when she moved her pelvis closer, letting all of her weight to push on Chris’ crotch. His dick throbbed one time.

“Mmm,” He mumbled into the kiss.

Lauren grinned, pulling a bit away, but instantly locking gazes with him. She started grinding against his boner, leisurely but firmly, almost like if she was dancing a Michael Bublé’ song. At some point of the whole thing, Chris had placed his hands around her waist, and was now grabbing her tightly, reassuring that what she was doing felt good.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Darren asked, moving closer; his leg against Chris’. His hand, that had been alternately playing with Lauren’s leg and Chris’, improperly soft for Chris’ current needs, groped Lauren’s round ass, “Take a fucking look at this.”

He shared a moderately short, but deep kiss with her before leaning his back on the couch again. 

Chris could only nod at these questions, too stoned to get a more proper answer out of his throat. Darren traced a path of kisses from his shoulder to his neck. His lips were warm and humid. Chris wondered how they’d feel on…

“Mmmm,” His voice escaped from his control in a more audible whimper.

Darren’s lips closed on his jaw, teeth scraping skin. Chris moved his arm under him until his fingers sank intensely in the short, though wild black curls, and pulled him closer to his body.

The pressure inside of Chris’ jeans was getting unbearable. He felt his cock throbbing, hot and big, craving to be freed from its confines. It must’ve gotten considerably bigger with Lauren’s constant rubbing. He wondered if it was turning her on, too, and if she was feeling a wetness under her shorts and her pussy was pulsating, desperate for something because this was _too much_ but at the same time not-fucking-enough. It must’ve, or she wouldn’t have kept going, but he seemed to be the only one who was finding it hard to catch a fucking breath.

“Chris…” Darren called quietly, his voice emerging from a place dangerously close to his ear. “Come on, don’t be shy. Touch her.”

He couldn’t reject any invitation if it was expressed in that fucking voice, throaty and erotic as nothing Chris heard before. 

And he did it. He ran his hands through the soft skin of her legs, first, and once he started it was hard to keep count on what he did next. Hands were everywhere –on arched spines, and belly buttons, on prominent bones and places were fat gathers, and he felt textures, and muscles contracting at different levels of intensity, and bones scrolling, and he touched and touched and touched.

Lauren put her hair into one side, and when she sloped to kiss him, hands on his neck, this time rougher and with lips that struggled to meet because there were other places where senses were funneling on, her face had gotten a notoriously pink color, and the air entering into her nostrils was heavier. _Thank God_ , Chris felt a sudden relief.

Lauren cut the kiss shortly after, “Do you like this?” She whispered.

Her hips were now the only part of her body moving, this time thrusting against him, sharply and fast. It was mesmerizing, for a moment he couldn’t think of nothing else but her crotch against his fucking pulsating boner. She was going so fucking fast it was impossible to resist getting over the edge. The girl had a fucking gift.

Chris pressed his eyelids down very tightly, his hips tensed even more under the friction. His jaw trembled, and he was channeling all his willpower to think about something that could take away the untimely sensation of the orgasm that was trying to reach him down in his balls.

“Chris.” Lauren called again, and she kissed his cheekbone before continuing, “Does it feel good? What I’m doing?”

Chris’ hand clasped Darren’s thigh –near to something similar to a fucking tent, without being capable of controlling the strength and stabbing his nails through his thin pajama pants; that moan he had spent the last minutes trying to hold finally made it out, vibrating on his vocal chords.

Lauren stopped.

Chris let out a breath.

_Too-pretty-fucking-close to embarrass myself forever._

Chris wet his lips, opening his eyes, “That was amazing.”

Lauren’s prideful smirk let him know that it wasn’t the first time someone told her that. She stood up straight, thoughtful.

Darren had grabbed Chris’ hand for some reason, and was placing little kisses through his palm and knuckles. Chris wasn’t sure where he was supposed to pay attention. And his cock was still retrieving from that almost-orgasm.

“Have you ever thought about this?” Lauren asked. “About us, like this?”

“Like two times a day for the last two weeks.”

Lauren’s giggle sounded surprisingly honest and casual, not like if she was straddled on top of him and had almost made him come with his clothes on. Her eyes moved to Darren, and later on Chris understood why. His lips encircled Chris’ index and middle finger, and his head started moving, sucking them fervently. Chris’ eyes fixed relentlessly on him, on his lips moving skillfully around his fingers and _sweet-Jesus_ , he had never been this turned on. When Darren put his mind into it, he could turn anything into something so obscenely erotic it could easily replace any porn movie.

Lauren ran a hand through Chris’ hair, messing with it, “Did you touch yourself when you did it?”

Chris’ couldn’t just take his eyes off Darren’s and his fucking warm, expert mouth around his fingers.

“Yes. Shit, I did it more than what I should’ve.”

Lauren bit her lip. Then, without saying a thing, she sat down next to Chris.

Darren’s lips slowly abandoned his fingers. He looked into Chris’ eyes when he asked softly, “Pull down your pants, will you?”

He swallowed hard. Did they rehearse this whole thing while he wasn’t paying attention, or they were just so used to it that switching the word of command came out naturally?

Chris bravely resisted the urge to grope himself when he unbuttoned his jeans. He pulled down his pants as it was –apparently- needed to. _Okay_ , there is something weird about knowing there’s gazes fixed completely on the hard bulge under your boxers; but there’s also something incredibly hot about it.

Darren’s voice came out weaker than before. Chris wondered why.

“Um, the boxers, too.”

He did it quickly because the brush of the fabric against the tip of his cock would be a fucking torture otherwise.

“Wow,” Lauren let out; quietly, but not quiet enough.

_That_ did make him feel weirder.

 “What?” He asked, worried something might be terribly wrong with him. He hadn’t gotten any complaints in the past, but there’s always a first time.

Lauren didn’t reply right away, “It’s… bigger than what we expected.”

Correction: _that_ was weird.

“Did you guys talk about my penis?” That was a question he never thought he’d ask.

“We talk about _everything_.” Lauren cleared.

Chris moved his gaze from Lauren to Darren. He opened his mouth to talk, but it seemed he really couldn’t come up with any excuse, or words overall.

“Look, you left him speechless.” She said with a grin, highly entertained.

“Is that bad?”

Lauren’s grin faded. She snapped quickly, “Of course not. Are you stupid?” she looked down again. At his cock, still rising there alone in all its magnificence. He felt suddenly praised by their reactions and he loved it _._ “It’s… fucking fantastic.”

She stretched her hand, gently grabbing the upper part, and she slowly ran her thumb through the hole to spread the precum all over the tip. Chris groaned quietly at the so-long anticipated contact with a portion of skin, throwing his head back on the couch, slightly sliding a bit downer on the couch. Darren seized this to resume his job at his neck, sucking from his Adam apple to  the sensitive pink nipples that made Chris shiver for a while.

“So… tell me, sweetie…” Lauren continued, her fingers still restricted to the sticky tip, which was very pleasurable but far, far from being nearly enough. “When you masturbated… did you do it softy or hard?”

The memory of waking up stiff, turning over to desperately rub his dick against the mattress, against _anything_ , came to him.

“Slow at first.” He finally recovered the ability to talk like a pseudo-normal human being. “But just because I tried to think of something else…” Darren’s tongue got inside his freaking ear, and he wondered if Darren had found a part of the body that wasn’t fuckable. He breathed in and out before continuing, “But when I just let it get into my mind, I got carried away…”

“So you start like this.”

Lauren wrapped the entirely of her hand around him now, and she started to move slowly up and down. It felt so relieving to finally feel the friction around his cock, and if it was possible, he was getting harder and bigger and…

“God. Fuck.”

“That’s a risky selection of swears, Chris.” Darren whispered, his lips folding in a naughty smile. Then he shook it off and added with a grave voice, “I’m so fucking hard right now, Chris.” He could just keep repeating his name over and over, and he’d come in the matter of a moment. “Feel me.”

Chris didn’t hesitate for a fragment of second before placing his hand over Darren’s boner.

“That’s it,” Darren breathed. He abruptly put his own hand over Chris’, making him considerably tighten his grip and grinding once against his hand. He bit his lip, the lust on his eyes was more than obvious, “Yes. Now rub it.”

And Chris rubbed it, and the way he could feel his cock perfectly through those skinny pants did nothing but increase his own excitement. He moved his hips up, pushing into Lauren’s hand. She noticed, and stretched her hand now to Darren to the height of his chin.

“Honey, spit, please.” The way she just seemed to ask for the salt at the other side of the table amused Chris.

Darren obeyed immediately though, spitting on Lauren’s open hand. Then he grabbed his dick again and-

“Oh, fuck. Yes.” Chris panted between teeth tightly pressed, feeling the cold, sticky substance around his cock, and Lauren’s hand wasn’t gentle anymore. Her rhythm was now steady, hard, and fast. Her skin slid easily through the shaft with Darren’s spit. He was being jerked off with Darren’s spit. “Oh, God.”

“When you get carried away,” Lauren said, “how long does it take you to…?”

He couldn’t even feel ashamed to say the truth, “I don’t, oh,” he gasped, “–know, like two –God. Fuck. Two minutes, as much.”

Just when he felt right there at the verge again, his balls tickling and drops of sweat sliding down his face and chest, Lauren stopped and he found himself thrusting into the air, his thighs trembling slightly. God, _why?_

There was a moment of silence first.

“Hey,” Lauren called, and her hand caressed Chris’ temple and hair, still slightly wet from Chris’ precum and Darren’s spit, “I heard Darren gives amazing blowjobs. I can’t tell because, you know, it’s biologically impossible, but you should try one.”

“Please…” Chris panted again, and he wasn’t sure what he was asking and to whom. He just knew that he felt a terrible need to have all of his holes full and any bulge fucked hard so he could fucking come for once and all. How could Lauren talk so lightly when he was disposed to do absolutely anything for it?

Lauren licked his cock from the base to the tip once, swiftly, and Chris felt his spine shivering as he gasped. His thighs trembled.

“Say it.” She whispered.

He’d say whatever it was necessary to make him come, but his voice came out unexpectedly loud and commanding.

“Darren.” A pause “Suck me.”

Chris had never seen someone to get on his knees that gracefully and nimbly. Darren took place between his legs, opening them a bit wider, and the simple image of Darren grabbing his dick from the base took him to the edge.

“Wait,” he asked. He’d never forgive himself if he missed the chance of having Darren sucking his cock. _Never_. He bit his lip, this time feeling the vague taste of blood, but too busy to figure it out. “Go on.”

First Darren ran his nose from Chris’ balls to his pubic hair in an utterly savage movement, fucking _smelling_ it. And he thought _fuck, be strong, fuck, be strong_.

Darren’s lips closed around the tip of his penis, and his warm, warm mouth engulfed him slowly, almost to his balls and he didn’t have the sanity to wonder how did he do that.

“God. Darren.”

He had never heard Chris calling his name –not like that. Not so freaking sexually. This encouraged him to continue, and he did this slow movement a few more times. He could slip properly because of Chris’ wetness and his own spit, so he sucked faster.

A lot of unintelligible words came out of Chris’ mouth, but it was something like _oh God, fuck, yes, yes, God,_ ordered in different types of combinations. He had his eyes closed most of the time, and when he opened them he saw Lauren with her hand under her shorts, letting out constant low moans and twisting her hips, probably to rub harder against her hand. When she saw him staring, she pulled the hand from her pants and extended it to Chris, and Chris sucked her fingers hard and for a long time.

And Darren was there swallowing his entire long cock like if he had never had something tastier in his mouth, His hips gave an abrupt lunge against Darren’s mouth. His cock throbbed inside of it. He was so fucking close…

And then, the most unexpected thing happened –of course, if you don’t count the dozen of other unexpected things that happened that night. Darren’s lips got away, and so did Lauren’s fingers, and he sat down next to him on the couch. Chris felt he could punch them both. His balls were aching.

“Make yourself come.” Darren said with a thin voice.

Chris looked at him with his eyes wide. _Really? After all of this?_

Then Lauren added, “For us.”

“We want you to.”

Kind of mad (and knowing that anger couldn’t last long), their words got him right-fucking-there and he just rubbed his cock with his hand, fast and hard, four or five times before a string of wetness fell upon his chest, and then another one on his stomach, and another one, and he was moaning so loudly that it’d be a miracle if the entire building didn’t hear it; his thighs and butt quavering and jesusfuckingchrist he thought he might’ve blacked out for a few seconds.

It took him more than a moment to get a normal breath back. His mind was still stunned when he opened his eyes, still rubbing slowly the bulge that was becoming flaccid on his hand.

He didn’t know what to feel when he noticed he was the only one naked. Besides Darren’s shirt, they didn’t take one fucking piece of cloth off. And he was there, completely exposed, coming like a fountain, while they watched him. It was completely humiliating. Humiliating and hot, of course.

Just when he thought he’d outpoint this intense session, they did something that left him speechless. More speechless than any of the other things they did, and he hadn’t considered that even an option.

Lauren passed the palm of her hand through his stomach, collecting his come, and extended it to Darren’s face who, with a quick movement, licked it right off her hand, and then – _holyjesusandsaintmary_ and Chris didn’t know enough entities to invoke- they leaned in front of him and shared the most obscene and hot kiss with tongue that he had ever seen. If it was humanly possible, he thought he could get hard right then again.

Lauren cut the kiss with a giggle.

“That was fun.” She commented, like if they finished an interesting board game. She climbed through the couch’s backrest and walked to Darren’s room. “I’m going to sleep. You guys coming?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end of this chapter, congratulations and thanks for reading <3  
> Comments would be soso highly appreciated -Natt


End file.
